


Easy Lies and Hard Truths

by modestfuckup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Asshole John, Awkward virgin sex, Discussion of Abortion, False Pregnancy, Family Drama, Forced Abortion, Insults, Jackson and Malia are Derek's cousins, Jackson and Malia are Twins, John is a bad dad, Lady!Claudia, Lord!John, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mpreg, Name-Calling, Omega!Claudia, Omega!Stiles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Semi-Historical, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Starcrossed Lovers, alpha!Scott, beta!derek, getting married, nobility au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modestfuckup/pseuds/modestfuckup
Summary: Lord Stiles is an omega whose mother vowed he would marry for love until she died. Now, Stiles is nearly 18, in love with a beta stableman, and ready to announce his intended marriage to Derek to his father when he finds he has been betrothed to Lady Martin, an alpha, since he was a child. Finding this situation unbarable, he fakes a pregnancy to end the engagement, however his father is intent on keeping his word to the Martins no matter the cost.
Relationships: Claudia Stilinski/Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Ships Include, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii.  
> I have had this almost finished for almost three years so I thought I'd post it to get myself to work on it. legit the doc was created September 2017, so if i can finish it by September this year I'll feel accomplished. lol.
> 
> I will add content warnings on each chapter, and update the tags as we go through. I just don't want to spoil some twists. I am editing this as I post it, while trying not to add to much because it's already going to be long. See end notes for content warnings and discription.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content and warnings at the bottom :)

“Mischief,” his mother called as the young boy played in the courtyard, “time for lunch.” The boy turns and looks to his mother, standing in the doorway in a light blue dress. He runs over to her and hugs her, arms wrapping around her hips. “Come my sweet boy, the servants have lunch ready.”

He releases his mother and grabs her hand when it is offered to him. They walk together, him swinging her arm marilly as they walk through the halls of their estate. The lunch room is dressed with a small spread of food. It is spring, so there sits a small tray of fruits that are in-season and a small hen that has been cooked and ready to eat. 

His mother gently lifts him up to sit on the chair opposite her, and he immediately goes for one of the small cakes on the tiered platter. 

“Oh Mischief, not until we have finished our lunch,” she poises her napkin on her lap and serves her plate as well as her small son’s. They eat. The boy talks the gibberish of a 6 year old as his mother listens intently. 

They are almost done with lunch, the boy readies himself for a cake when his father walks in. 

“You two have begun without me?” The boy turns and sees his father in the doorway. 

“Daddy!” he screams as he launches himself off of the chair and into his father’s arms. 

“My son,” his father neals down to prepare for his son’s affection, “how have I missed you growing so much?”

“You missed this too,” the boy opens his mouth to reveal two empty spots where his teeth used to be. His father acts surprised at the development. The boy’s mother stands up and crosses the room to greet her husband. 

“We did not know you were returning today,” she says, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. 

“My business finished early. Instead of coming home at the end of the month, I thought I would surprise you,” he stands up, his small son in his arms as they walk back to the table where lunch has finished. 

“The negotiations?” His wife asks, wringing her hands.

“Come now, Claudia, I just returned home. Let us speak of business later,” he replies, carrying his boy to the table and taking a seat. “I come with gifts,” he announces.

This excited the boy and he eagerly looks at his father for his own present from the land of Martin. His father pulls out a neatly wrapped box. Slowly, the boy unwraps the paper, and finds the box is a music box. 

“Oh Daddy!” the child flips it over to find the winding mechanism and twists the small knob. A few seconds later, the lullaby his mother sings to him each night begins flitting from the small box. 

“Open it, Mieczysław,” his father instructs. The boy follows orders and opens the box to find a small leather sack. He looks up to his father for clarification, “go on.” He continues to open the small sack and inside are a series of gold coins. 

“Coins Daddy?” 

“Not coins Mieczysław , chocolates!” His father takes one and peels back the gold to reveal a small circular chocolate disk, “see?”

The boy takes it and examines it and takes a tentative bite. “It is chocolate!” he shoves the rest in his mouth. His mother takes one from the pouch and examines it too. 

“Do not worry, it means no harm. I found a craftsman in Martin that sells delectable treats, he even creates hollow bunnies which he sells during Easter! He would not divulge his secret to me, but it was quite astonishing to watch him work,” he explains. 

His wife takes a bite from the chocolate herself. “That is quite good,” she places the remainder of her coin into her mouth. 

The family sits and talks of the father’s travels, how the roads were, and what he saw in the faraway town. Eventually, the boy tires of polite conversation and asks to be excused to go and play. His mother excuses him and the boy takes off out of the lunch room to find his friends in the courtyard. 

“What of the business Johnathan?” Claudia asks as soon as Mieczysław is far enough to not overhear their conversation. 

“Claudia,” John sighs and brings his hand up to pinch the bridge between his eyes. 

“He’s not but 6 Johnathan. Too young to be betrothed. Please tell me Lord and Lady Martin think the same,” she looks around to make sure none of the staff are in the room. The last thing they need coming out of the Stilinski Estate is rumors of unrest between Lord and Lady. 

“The Martins,” John releases his head and looks to Claudia, “have a 3 year old alpha, she’s feisty and could make a great mate for Mieczysław someday.” Claudia stands up and crosses the room and remains quiet as she looks out the window that overlooks the courtyard. She can see her son, playing with some of the staff’s children. She sees Scott, son of the nursemaid, and an older boy, son to the stableman and who has only recently been allowed near the estate. 

“I will not submit my son to the same circumstances as which our marriage was formed Johnathan. I have given you the heir you so desperately craved, allow my son to marry whom he chooses,” she brings her arms over her chest. 

“Claudia, the boy is an omega. Had he been an alpha, I can make the decision to-”

“So since he is an omega you take that right away from him? Just as I had that right taken from me?” She turns to look at John.

“Do not take my words for what they are not,” John stands, knocking the chair back from the force. 

“Then what are you trying to say Johnathan? Why are you dooming my son to a loveless marriage?” Claudia brings a hand up and fiddles with the locket around her neck. 

“He is my heir too,” he stops and pauses. “Our place in society dictates the boy marries someone of statues. His sex requries his need of an alpha. I am trying to help my son by not filling his head with the delusion of love. Instead he will be in a stable marriage. Something I feel you should understand,” John says then pulls his fist over his mouth as if to will the words back into his body. “What does it matter if the boy marries for love?”

Claudia stares at John, behind her she can hear the joyous laughter of children. She brings up the locket to her mouth and kisses it. “Because we never got the chance to,” she says looking at John. “You cannot possibly tell me this loveless life is something you want for your only son?”

“I do love you Claudia,” John says trying to step towards her, but she takes a step back. 

“You love me?” She lets out a dry, emotionless laugh, “you love me like the ward I am. Your love is one of companionship, not true, romantic love.”

“Claudia-”

“You took me in after my parents died and my estate was to be sold because I, an omega, cannot hold a household. Now you wish the same fate on my son,” she drops the chain around her neck, “Johnathan, you and I have known each other for a very long time, so long that I cannot believe I once considered you a friend, but even you cannot pretend this union is a happy one.” 

There is a pause, Claudia picks up the locket from its place on her chest. She’s never been without it, and she hopes she never will. She knows John keeps a book from his own childhood love. “Please tell me you will consider granting my son, our son, the chance I had taken from me.”

John nods, then exits the lunch room, leaving Claudia alone.

* * *

“Mom?” Mieczysław peeks his head into his mother’s room.

“I am here Mischief,” her voice is weak, but she’s sitting up in bed with a book in her lap. 

“Mom, can Scott come in? His mom said we had to ask you first,” Mieczysław asks. 

“Sure, Scott can come in,” Claudia answers and sets her book down. Outside the door she can hear her 10 year old whispering to his best friend to follow him into the room. 

Both boys jump onto the bed and curl up like they have been for the past few months, ever since Claudia has been too sick to leave her room. 

“Can you tell us the store of the princess and the knight?”

“Of course, Mischief,” she pulls the boys in, Scott’s a little alpha, a force to be reckoned with if Claudia was to say. It also saddens her that there are more similarities in the two boys’ appearance than coincidence can account for. Despite their tones in skin being different, she sees Johnathan’s eyes in both of them. It makes her wonder. 

“Once upon a time, there was an omega princess,” she looks to her son who smiles at the acknowledgement of the princess being omega, just like him, “she lived in a castle, with a tower that climbed into the sky. 

“Every night she stared at the stars from her window. She would spend hours looking up. She could map out the stars and the sky. They were her friends. One day the clouds were hanging low blocking her view of her stars. The sky was grey and she felt like a cloud was over her head. She almost cried, but instead of looking up, she looked down, and saw a knight looking up. 

“He calls up to her ‘Princess!’ She had never seen the knight there before. She climbed down the stairs and left the castle to meet the knight. He was atop a white horse, and his armor was shiny with recent polish. The princess asks the knight ‘Who are you?’ The knight does not reply, instead he puts his hand out and invites her to join him on his steed. 

“The princess hesitates, knowing the king and queen would not approve of her philandering with a knight, much less a knight who refused to introduce himself. Perhaps if the princess and her parents had not fought earlier in the day she would have stayed in the palace and denied the knight the visit. However, they had fought that morning, thus leading the princess to the impulsive act of joining the knight on his steed and escaping into the woods. 

“They ride through the woods, the princess holding onto the knight from behind,” Claudia pauses to cough. “They finally make it to a clearing, a wide open space surrounded by trees. The knight reins his horse in and dismounts, putting his hand to assist the princess off as well. When both have dismounted, they walk a short way from where the horse was tethered to a tree. In the middle of the field, the knight looks up to reveal a clear night sky. The princess was surprised by the sight and thanked the knight for the surprise but asked him to remove his helmet so she could thank him properly.

“The knight complies, removing his helmet. The princess places a kiss upon the knights lips, and the two spend all night staring up at the stars and counting them aloud. 

“The sun begins to peek over the mountains in the east, signalling to the young couple that it is time to go home. They remount the knight’s steed and race back to the castle to get the princess home before her handmaid notices she is missing. Before they part, the princess asks the knight if she will see him again, to which the knight says he would be honored to see her everyday for the rest of his life.” From the hallway, someone calls for Scott. 

“I have to go,” Scott says, removing himself from the bed. 

“But you will miss the best part!” Mieczysław calls after him, even though Scott is already at the door and replying that he will hear it next time. 

“Should I continue?” Claudia asks, pulling her son in closer to her. The little omega only nods and she continues, “The princess, excited about the knight’s proposal, goes to ask her father his opinion. 

“However, when she joins the king and queen in the breakfast hall, a prince she had grown up with, but had not seen in many years awaits at her father’s right hand. Introductions are made, and it comes to air that the princess is to marry the prince by the end of day. The princess is upset, because she does not love the prince, rather the knight she met the night before. She tries to reason with her father, asking her to marry for love instead of duty, but the king will not hear it. Distraught, she runs out of the castle in hopes of finding her love, the knight. She finds him at a small creek just outside the castle boundaries and finds that he is no knight at all, rather a peasant from her kingdom.

“She tells him of her betrothal, and her father’s apathy towards her own happiness. He claims he understands, though he is heartbroken by the circumstance. In the eyes of the king, a peasant is lowly compared to a prince, and thus an illfit match for his daughter. In the eyes of the princess, her knight is much more fit for her love than a prince who simply asks for her hand instead of earning her heart,” Claudia coughs again. 

“Then, the princess looks at her knight and asks, ‘what if we run away?’ Her knight seems confused by this, after a life of serving the king and queen he cannot comprehend abandoning his station and stealing the princess away. Except,” Claudia looks to her son tucked into her size, “he loved the princess too, and he wanted to be with her. He agreed, and the princess goes back to the castle, and takes a few things from her room as well as an extra dress and joins the knight by the creek. 

“They ran away to another village three day’s journey away. They find a small house, and they marry in the village church. The princess marries for love, because of this, she lives a full and happy life,” Claudia feels Mieczysław tuck into her more, wrapping a hand around her waist. 

“I have always loved that story,” Mieczysław says. “Dad is the knight and you are the princess, how romantic.”

“Some things are different Mischief,” she replies, knowing she always ommitts the knight being a beta, and the prince being an alpha. John is an alpha. Her son is clever, and would soon figure out the true romance of her story otherwise. 

The two remain quiet for a time, Claudia coughing every few moments. The fever has been getting worse as of late. She worries for herself, but mostly for her beloved son. 

“Will I get to marry for love?” Mieczysław asks. 

“Yes, Mieczysław. You will,” Claudia promises. She has been talking to John, if this is her deathbed, she has made sure her son will be given the opportunity she was denied. 

* * *

Lady Stilinski passes at the end of spring, when Mieczysław is in his 10th year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: This first chapter is the prolouge. This is really the only time Claudia is depicted in this fic, she's mentioned later on, but this is her big moment. In this chapter, Claudia tells a story to Stiles that is basically the outline of the this story, of course with a couple of alterations for spice. 
> 
> Warnings: Character death,


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' 18th birthday is a month away, and Lord Stilinski calls Stiles into his office for a disscussion about his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at catching continuity in my own works so if there's any mistakes let me know! I'm editing this by myself so I'm sorry if it gets a little odd. 
> 
> I purposely tried to make Stiles' and John's speech elevated compared to Derek and Scott. I'm not sure how successfull it is, but let me know and I can try to iron out any areas that are odd sounding. 
> 
> Content and warnings at the bottom :)

Stiles sits in the drawing room, reading a book and preparing for his daily excursion to the stables. Someone enters through the door. 

“My Lord,” Stiles instantly recognizes it as Scott, “your father has requested your presence in his offices.”

“Scotty, we have known each other since we were in diapers. You don’t have to call me ‘lord’,” Stiles stands from his chair and walks to where his oldest friend lay in wait by the door. 

“If your father hears me call you anything but by a formal title, he will remove from the household,” Scott says.

“We both know that you have done worse, yet you still find employment here. I think my father fancies your mother and simply allows you to stay to woo her,” Stiles offers as they exit the drawing room and walk to his father’s office. 

“Don’t joke about my mother like that Stiles.”

“I speak the truth Scott. We both know of my father’s harsh nature. Had you been the son of someone else, I should think you would no longer live in the estate,” the two round the corner. “In addition, I have gotten to know many other noblemen and women during my time at school, many say their staff are illiterate, my father hiring a tutor for you and your mother suggests he likes her more than we care to admit. Thus taking care of you to keep her happy.”

“I can still hardly read. Even with your help over summer,” Scott admits.

“Do you know why my father calls me? He hardly enjoys my company since my mother died.”

“No, though I am grateful he beckons you rather than me,” they near the offices, and Scott begins to slip back into his formality. He gives a curt bow at the door and does not wish his friend a goodbye, but offers a thumb up for reassurance. 

Stiles pushes the door open and enters the room. He makes his presence known as his father looks down at a series of papers, “you called for me?” 

“Ah,” his father does not look up, “yes. Mieczysław, come in,” he motions to one of the chairs in his office. Stiles feels as though he is in the principal’s office back at boarding school. He takes a seat. There’s a long silence between them, his father shuffles papers and reads sections here and there, prolonging the conversation he called.

Stiles grows annoyed with his father’s procrastination, “What is this about father?”

“Your 18th birthday is nearing, and there is some-” he hesitates, finally looking up from his paperwork, “business we need to go over.”

“I am actually pleased you brought up my birthday, because I have something I would like to tell you regarding my-”

His father looks up over his glasses to Stiles, “This is not about your birthday but rather happens after it.”

“Is it school then? It is only but June father, I do not see a reason to discuss my return trip so soon,” Stiles starts. He was sent to boarding school the fall after his mother passed, and has been going every year since, only spending the summer back in his childhood home. 

“You will not be returning to school after your birthday,” his father admits, his attention going back down to the papers on his desk. 

“May I ask why not?” Stiles enjoyed school, he had a knack for the sciences, though being an omega he did most of his study in the arts. 

“You will be married, what your alpha chooses to do with you is none of my concern,” his father responds.

“Married?”

“Yes, to the Martin girl two years your junior. An alpha. A good match,” he is still looking down at his papers. 

“But I- I am to marry for love. Mother told me on her deathbed, she wanted me to have the love you and she shared-” Stiles stands over he father’s desk hands flat on the table top.

“Your mother was a fool letting you believe that lie, though I suppose she believed it too at the end.”

“Father,” Stiles says sternly, “what do you mean to say?”

Johnathan sighs and looks up from his work to his son, “that ridiculous story she told you always filled your head with the damndest things. That story is not the origin of _our_ love story,” he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come.”

Johnathan stands behind his desk and walks out, his simple command enough to make Stiles follow at his heels. They walk to the closed wing of the house, the one where his mother’s deathbed remains. It had been closed off ever since she died. Truth be told, in the days after her passing, Stiles would sneak in to lay in the sheets to smell the scent left in the bed. 

The room remained untouched since the last time Stiles entered it. The flowers on the bedside were wilted and dried, and there was a healthy layer of dust overtop everything in the room. Johnathan walks to the vanity, and begins disturbing the scene. 

“Did you ever wonder why your mother and I did not share bed quarters? Why she chose to live in this wing of the house?” John is flitting through the drawers of the vanity.

“You snore,” Stiles says because it was the answer he remembers his mother always giving him when his childhood curiosity begged the same question. 

Johnathan lets out a single sad laugh, “Have you ever heard me snore?” He still riffles through the vanity. 

“Well no, we have never slept in a vicinity close enough for me to hear such things,” Stiles admits. The whole town knows the Lord is distant, even more so after the loss of his wife. He never had much time for his son. 

Johnathan grows frustrated and moves from the vanity to the small writing desk by the window. “Your mother was many things, but forthright was not one of them. Ah ha!” Johnathan pulls out a small box from the desk drawer. “Do you remember her locket?” he asks as he opens the box, and pulls out the very chain and locket he just asked Stiles about. 

“Of course, I hardly saw her without it. How did it come to be stored in her desk rather than buried with her?” Stiles crosses the room and takes the small silver piece into his hand. 

“That locket contains a picture of her knight,” Johnathan says walking back out of the room. “Open it.” 

Stiles does and finds a picture of a man he has never seen before. The portrait is small but easy enough to make out with dark hair and a strong jaw, neither of which resembles his father in the slightest. “I was the prince in that story. Needless to say she was somewhat forced to marry me, after her parents parished and her estate sold. Giving you the hope that you would marry for love was an easy lie she told herself and eventually you. You have been betrothed to the Martin girl since you were but 6 years.”

Stiles studies the locket harder. He had always wondered who was in the locket his mother wore so close to her heart. For years he thought it was his father, then his own portrait, now though it seems as though it was a person from a whole life he never knew. 

“His name was Edison, he died of Consumption the same summer her parents died.” He pauses, “I have been assured the young lady alpha is clever, I am sure you two will get along well enough. An alpha is just what you need. Your birthday is in one month’s time, be prepared to leave,” Without another word Johnathan leaves the room with Stiles still staring at the locket in his hand. 

He collapses on the bed and feels tears track down his face. The locket in his hand suddenly meant something so much different than everything he ever thought. Stiles thinks back to all the memories he has of his mother, ones of spending the day in the courtyard, where she swung him on a swing that hung from the branch, their tea parties, all the stories she told right in this bed, the lullabies she sang, all of it suddenly felt false. 

The sudden urge to not be in the room anymore overwhelms him when he remembers he has been betrothed to someone for over half his life. With the locket in his hand he rushes out of the room and down the halls trying desperately to get out of the estate as quickly as possible. 

His mother told him he would get to marry for love, so he found it. 

“Stiles? What’s wrong?” He hears Scott say as he passes a room, but he does not stop, he cannot stop. His heart is breaking with too much information and there is only one set of arms that can help relieve the pain he feels. The courtyard is enclosed on three sides by the estate, but the fourth side is contained by a wooden fence overgrown with plants ill kept since his mother’s death. A small gate separates the estate from the rest of the grounds, Stiles learned quickly that beyond that gate happiness lives but today the usual surge of happiness is dampened by his father’s truths. 

The stables exist just past the sight of the grounds, Father’s own stallion--along with a few other horses--live under the careful mind of Derek and Michael Hale. Michael, an alpha, is close to Johnathan in age, and has been working with the estate’s horses since he was hired in his nearly 30 years ago. His only son, Derek, is only 3 years older than Stiles and found a place on the estate when he was just a child, eventually working up to becoming a playmate to Stiles. His mother thought Derek’s being a beta would even out the rambunctious Scott and Stiles duo. Once Stiles outgrew playmates, he was hired alongside his father to care for the horses. 

The grass underfoot gives way to the wooden floor of the stables. 

“Derek?” The space suddenly feels so much bigger than it ever has. “Derek!” His voice feels hoarse with tears and echoes slightly through the empty stalls.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, exiting one of the stalls with Roscoe, Stiles’ favorite mare. “I was just getting Roscoe and Camaro ready for our-” Stiles does not let him finish, he crashes into him and buries his face in his chest and wraps his arms around his waist. Instinctively, Derek arms wrap around Stiles’ waist. He smells of sweat, hay, and manure but Stiles has grown to love the smell as his love for Derek grew. “Stiles, what is wrong?”

“I- I am betrothed to someone else,” the tears continue down his cheek and seep into Derek’s shirt. 

“What?” Derek asks, pulling Stiles in tighter.

“My father just told me. The Martin girl a few towns over. An alpha. I am to leave after my birthday in a month’s time,” his words are muffled by Derek’s shirt and chest. Roscoe stands patiently next to them. “My mother lied to me,” Stiles sobs. 

Derek can think of nothing more than to hold the omega and hope he finds comfort in his arms, words having never been his strong suit. He kisses the top of Stiles’ head, usually thrilled by their height difference but today it means so little. 

“What are we to do?” Stiles asks, it is muffled by Derek’s chest and shirt. 

“I don’t think there is much we can do, my love. You are a ward of your father, I am nothing but a stableman,” for years he and Stiles had been sneaking around, ever since Derek was about 9 and allowed to play with Stiles while Michael worked in the stables and Stiles’ father was away. They knew from a remarkably young age that they loved each other, in a different way than Stiles loved Scott. He and Scott shared a brotherly love, one that went so far as to not strike Stiles’ heat when they went through the tween changes. 

Still to this day, Stiles had not experienced a heat, being exposed to one alpha whom he shared a close friendship with and a beta who would not trigger a heat in any omega, nor a rut in an alpha. 

“Horseshit,” Stiles says, pulling himself out of Derek’s embrace. Derek misses it as soon as it is gone. “My mother lied to me, for _years_. She knew, she must have known you and I were- even when I was 8. I have loved you for over ten years, and I have dreamed of marrying for more than that,” Stiles’ eyes fill with a new wave of tears. “We were supposed to get married. I was to tell my father today of our plan.”

“Stiles,” Derek moves across the space Stiles put between them and brings him back in for a hug. 

“He called me into his offices, and I thought I would bring it up, but instead he told me this awful business. I was going to marry for love and yet, here I am. Having been married off since before I could comprehend,” Stiles looks at Derek's face, while he knows his own face is spotted with red patches as it always is when he cries, he sees the beta calm and still. “What are we to do Derek? I cannot marry that alpha, I do not love her.”

Derek is quiet for a moment, before finally saying, “maybe your father’s right.” This causes Stiles to withdraw from him to look up at his face.

“You cannot be serious Derek.”

“Lady Martin is an alpha, a wealthy one at that. She can give you-” he hesitates “a lot of things I can’t.”

“What can she give me that you cannot? You have given me everything I have ever wanted.”

“Because while I give you love, you have had a silver spoon in your hand. I come from a meager family Stiles, one who has been in your employment for more years than you or I have been alive. I have a small house with a farm but not much else. If she can give you the life you have always had… I can’t compete with that.” Stiles feels his heartbreaking at Derek’s words, a feeling he never thought he’d experience. “As long as you are safe and happy, I can’t contest this arrangement.”

“You fool. How _dare_ you insinuate I could be happy without you. To add I do not care about my family’s wealth, nor about your family’s wealth. Yes I have had my advantages growing up the son of a lord but that is where it ends. I cannot take my family’s estate even if I want, my being an omega. I grew up believing I would marry you and leave it all behind because I truly did not want it if it meant not having you.” Stiles gives Derek a sharp look.

“And a family? I cannot give you a family,” Derek says as soon as Stiles finishes. “You have always wanted a house full of children. That is something we both know I cannot give you.”

“There have been circumstances in which a beta has been known to impregnate an omega. The science is very unclear as to how the biology of betas works in conjunction to that of alpha and omega biology,” Stiles argues back, remembering his biology classes from school. “Even still, if a family is not in our future that does not warrant my abandonment of my love for you,” Stiles crosses his arms and looks at Derek. “Why are you so persistent that I have not accepted these facts? Are you trying to push me away out of anger? Because I believe it is working.”

The two are quiet, Derek taking care of Roscoe as it seems their daily excursion to the lake has been canceled. Outside, Stiles can hear someone’s feet pounding on the grass and soon land on the wood of the stable. 

“Stiles! There you are,” it is Scott. “I saw you run off, you seemed upset and-” he must sense the tension in the room lingering, “whoa, there seems to be trouble in paradise.”

“I am engaged,” Stiles states looking at Scott. 

The alpha’s face lit up with excitement, “Congratulations -”

“-to Lady Martin,” Scott immediately stops and goes slack jawed. “She is an alpha two years my junior. I am to leave after my birthday in one month’s time.” Stiles can see Derek’s back tighten with the repetition of the news. 

“But- you were going to marry Derek. What happened?” Scott asks the room waiting for an answer from either Stiles or Derek. 

“My mother lied,” Stiles says, answering Scott’s question but his eyes are trained on Derek’s back. “That story she told us, where she was the prince and my father was the knight was false. My father was the prince, a man named Edison was the knight. She always said there were differences, I am a fool for not figuring it out sooner.”

“Brother,” Scott says, walking up to Stiles. “Your parent’s marriage was a loving one, everyone knows that.”

“Evidently not,” Stiles looks to Scott. “We never considered the implications of them sleeping in different wings of the estate. “

Scott’s eyes open wide in epiphany. “What are we going to do? You can’t marry her Stiles!” Scott looks between Stiles and Derek, Derek still having his back to the conversation. 

“Derek thinks I should,” Stiles says, feeling the sadness and heartbreak in his own voice. 

“Derek! We can’t let Stiles be sent off to some random place,” Scott argues but Derek does not respond, instead he simply continues to stand there. 

“He says I am too accustomed to my life in the estate to be the husband of a stableman and that he cannot give me the children I want. That is his argument for giving me away.”

“Do you really believe that Derek? Stiles has only ever shown unconditional love since we were kids. He knows the life he will live with you, believe me because I have heard him dream about for just as long,” Scott walks to Derek and places a hand on his shoulder. Derek sends Scott a sharp look, and although Scott is an alpha, one might assume Derek to be an alpha from his stature. Scott removes his hand, “you need to do something, Derek.”

“I have no standing _to_ do anything,” Derek snaps at Scott. “I am nothing but a stableman. There is no way I can make a claim on Stiles other than loving him. Something Lord Stilinski does not seem willing to negotiate with if he dooms his son to an arranged marriage.”

“Then you have accepted this fact?” Stiles asks in a small voice.

Derek turns to look at Stiles, and sees the tracks of tears down his face. “It is a truth I wish was malleable, but it isn’t. I love you Stiles, I have since we were but children, but I can't fight this. You can’t fight this. There are powers that be that dictate what happens, who are we to argue?”

Stiles grows quiet, not knowing his heart could shatter after it had already broken. 

“Run away,” Scott says after a few beats of silence between the three of them. 

“What?” Stiles asks, finally removing his gaze from Derek to Scott who stands between them. 

“Like your mother’s story. She ran away with the knight, you can just run away,” Scott offers. 

“I could never survive in this world on my own, I am an omega. As high and mighty as I might be in my tower, out there I am nothing to anyone,” Stiles rationalizes. 

“I will go with you, no one will look twice at an alpha escorting an omega,” Scott offers. 

“No, you cannot Scott. Should my father notice myself and you disappear simultaneously he will instantly know there is something afoot,” Stiles takes a seat on a bench against one of the stalls. “Should anyone run away with me it should by my love, but he seems willing to let me rot in a separate wing of a foregin estate like my mother.”

“That’s not what I meant Stiles,” Derek tries to defend himself. 

“Is it not? You said you wished this truth was malleable. It is, we can run away, we take our future into our own hands. I will leave all this behind once and for all, then maybe you will be willing to accept the love I have for you,” Stiles stares at Derek, tears still heavy in his eyes. 

“Your father will still seek us out,” Derek challenges, “what are we to do when he finds us missing? Or when he sends for us?”

“We must start a rumor, one where he would not wish to seek us out. My father’s reputation is very meaningful to him. The rumor must also end the arrangement between my father and the Martins,” Stiles states. “If we do not end that business I will never be safe from their threat.”

“You fall pregnant,” Scott supplies. 

“As much as I want a family Scott, I do not think this is an appropriate time to start,” Stiles replies. 

“No, listen. The most effective lie is ingrained with the truth. You fell in love, you having thought you would marry for love decided to prematurely consummating your love and get pregnant. With the news of your engagement to Lady Martin, you flee to save your love and your unborn child before your father has the time to punish you. 

“My mother is close with the lord, and will surely let the rumor slip to him. With the news of a child conceived outside of wedlock your father won’t seek you out, seeing your actions as shameful. Instead he will probably fabricate a story of your early return to school. I will ensure the rumor gets to the Martins. They surely will not want to marry their daughter to a whore, no offense intended.”

“No offense taken,” Stiles responds.

“And of me?” Derek asks.

“As you said, you are a stableman. Lord Stilinski probably doesn't even know you work here. No one will think twice if we have to hire a new stable boy. At least, not within the estate, your family might worry unless you tell them as much.”

“That is brilliant Scott!”

“A month is precisely the right time to make the rumor plausible if today you discover your pregnancy,” Scott says. 

“What do you have to say Derek?” Stiles looks at Derek. 

“The plan is sound,” Derek walks to Stiles and grabs his hands, “but it’s impulsive. Shouldn’t we at least try talking to your dad before we do something so dramatic and,” he pauses looking at Stiles with worry in his eyebrows, “permanent? You will ruin your reputation.”

“I don’t care for my reputation. My father has not listened to me a day in his life, that will not change now. This business has been arranged and done since I was 6. There is no amount of discussion that will change his mind on this matter. My only hope to be truly happy is running away with you,” they had spent their entire relationship in an easy phase with hardly any hardship. This adventure would surely challenge their love in ways it had not been in the past 10 years. 

Derek takes a moment. The rustle of the horses in their stalls is enough to break the silence, but the tension in the air is thick.

“If you do not choose to come with me, I understand. But I am leaving in a month’s time Derek, and it will not be in a carriage to Martin to be married, but on the back of Roscoe to a better life,” Stiles turns and walks out of the stable. Scott remains looking at Derek for a brief moment before following Stiles back to the estate, leaving Derek alone with the horses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: Stiles finds out about a betrothal to Lady Martin that has been twelve years in the making. When he goes to tell Derek, Derek doesn't seem willing to fight for their relationship until Scott steps in with a plan. 
> 
> Warning: Asshole John, John isn't a good dad
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please drop a comment and share!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' birthday approaches, and the plan is set into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> I moved this week so I didn't have time or internet to upload this chapter! Thanks for the support so far! If you like the fic, consider sharing it!
> 
> Content and warnings in the end note :).

Scott is the one who plants the seeds for their scheme. He is in the kitchen the one morning a few days after after the discussion in the stable. 

“Mom,” Scott asks as he helps Melissa fix some medicine for the Lord. “How would an omega know if they’re pregnant?” His act of false nonchalance seems to work on his mother.

“Why are you asking? Who do you know that might be pregnant?” She is instantly suspicious.

“Oh, no one. I would just like to know, for my own education.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get someone pregnant. You’re only 18, too young to be a father,” Melissa puts down her mortar and pestle to look at her son. “I didn't even know you were seeing someone.” 

“No mom, I’m asking for a friend. You have nothing to worry about,” Scott goes back to separating the herbs. 

“A friend you say?” She picks up the pestle to continue her work, “so long as I know the only omega friend you have is Stil-” Melissa stops and sets her hands on the workbench. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Stiles.”

“What?” Scott forces his voice to go high in the tone that his mother knows means he is lying. “No! Stiles is as much a virgin as the day he was born.” 

“Son, if Stiles has told you something about this topic you have to tell me. Lord Stilinski is set to marry at the end of this month. Should he be pregnant by another John- erm his father- must know,” Melissa is more serious than Scott thinks he’s ever seen. 

“It is not _not_ Stiles of whom I speak,” Scott admits, once again playing up his own culpability. 

“Scott!” Melissa yells. “Do you know who the father is?”

“No, he wouldn’t say, only that the affair has been going on for quite some time. We thought he was going to marry for love so he went and found it. The betrothal was shocking because he was going to announce his intention to marry this man to his father on his upcoming birthday.”

“‘We?’” Melissa asks.

“Yes mom, Lady Stilinski told me such stories too, and Stiles always dreamed about his marriage of love just like his parents.”

“My son,” Melissa brings up her hands to her mouth as if to pray, “please tell me that you are not the father of Stiles’ bastard.”

“Ew! No mom, you know I only have brotherly love for Stiles. We have known each other since birth,” Scott shivers from the implications. 

“Oh thank heavens,” she signs the cross over herself, “Is this why he has not come down from his rooms the past few days?”

“Yes. The father- he said some things that truly hurt Stiles and Stiles has been mourning the loss of his love while also trying to deal with the-” Scott makes a motion over his own belly suggesting the round belly of a pregnant omega.

“I thought he was simply upset at the news of his betrothal.” Melissa looks to Scott.

“That may also be a factor, but he has hardly spoken to me, only asking if I knew the symptoms of pregnancy.” Melissa rubs her forehead with the back of her hand. “Mom, you can’t tell Lord Stilinski,” Scott insists. 

“I have too! This changes the arrangement between him and the Martins. Stiles has made trouble he cannot fix.”

“Stiles is trying to take care of it, please just give him to the end of the month,” Scott pleads, “It’s only a couple weeks mom. Please.”

“I can’t keep this from-” Melissa starts to round the workbench and towards the door.

“Mom, please. Stiles has made a mess of things, but he is trying to fix it. Give him a chance,” he grabs her arm to stop her. 

“That dosen’t change the fact that he is no longer a virgin, which violates the agreement,” Melissa looks to her son. 

Scott takes a moment to look at his mother confused, letting go of her arm, “how do you know the details of the agreement?”

“I- I-” she hesitates, “I was Stiles’ nursemaid, I was asked to advise on the details of the agreement.”

“You knew of this agreement? And you never thought to tell him?” 

“I could not stop the arrangement, the business was between the lord and lady, I only advised on when Stiles would be ready for such a thing.”

Scott’s brows are furrowed, it seems the time for secrets to be revealed is sooner rather than later. “Regardless, give Stiles time to work this out before the lord knows. What the Martins don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Melissa is quiet for a moment, thinking over the situation. “Fine, but I will not keep this secret from the Lord for long. Should he need help he can come to me, I have some medicine that will terminate the pregnancy.”

Then Melissa exits their chambers. Scott looks around the room. He came in to start a rumor but has learned so much more than he thought he would in the span of a few short minutes. 

* * *

Scott walks through the estate to Stiles’ rooms. They’re on the third floor of the estate where he practically has the run of the space as Lord Stilinski sticks to his offices and adjoining bedchambers. He finds Stiles in his bedroom, curled up in a blanket and staring at the locket he hasn’t been able to let go of since the truth of his betrothal came to light. Stiles also has not spoken to Derek since.

“Stiles?” Scott asks, pushing the door open slightly as he enters the room. Stiles looks up from his position on the bed. “I told my mom.” Stiles looks back to the locket, studying the face of Edison. “She is most likely on her way to tell your father now.”

“Have you seen Derek?” Stiles asks. Stiles has asked this everyday, the answer always remains the same. 

“No, he was not at the stables this morning. Instead it was his cousin, a fellow named Jackson.”

Stiles pushes himself up from the bed, “I know this pregnancy is false, but considering in my imagination he is the father of this baby he is being a very lousy father,” Stiles says as he goes to the window and looks down. From here, he can just see the stable. 

“We should send a letter to the Martins about your rumored state,” Scott says. They only have a matter of weeks before Stiles will run away, by then the letter should be in the Martin’s possession. 

“You do it,” Stiles says, “They will know if it was I who wrote it.” 

Scott moves to the writing desk in Stiles’ room. A small pen and pad sit there, Scott cannot ever remember Stiles using it. 

“What should I write?” Scott asks, picking up the quill and positioning it in his hand as best he can. 

“Address it to Lady Martin,” Scott does so, “then write, ‘the authenticity of the young Stilinski omega’s virginity has been called into question. The staff say he has fallen pregnant. This information is for you to do with as you please.’ Or something to that effect.” 

Scott scribbles the words as best he could, his cursive always struggled, and his print was no better, but at the least someone could read his print. The quill always felt odd in his hand, like it didn’t belong there. It might not have--considering Scott is housestaff. 

“How is this, ‘Young Lady Martin, the staff at the Stilinski Estate claim that Lord Stilinski has fallen pregnant by an unknown alpha. This information is for you to do with as you please.’”

“That is very good Scotty. Surely it will work,” Stiles closes the locket and puts it in his pocket. “Send it out today.” 

Scott folds the piece of paper. “Are you okay Stiles?” 

“No. The love of my life abandoned me and our fake baby because he’s scared of my father,” Stiles lets out a humorless laugh and folds his arms over himself. “Why are we even going forth with this plan? The point of running away was to be with Derek and he hasn’t shown his face in days. I might as well go off and marry Lady Martin.”

“Stiles-” 

“Just go Scott, I have to feign sickness, send your mom to me with complaints of nausea. Give the letter to Liam to take to town.”

With that, Scott leaves the room, letter in hand. 

* * *

“Jackson!” Scott calls out as he nears the stables. He reaches them and finds that there is no one he can see inside. “Jackson, I know you’re here.” Stall by stall, he looks for man. “Jackson!”

“What McCall?” Jackson comes out of one of the stalls with a white mare called Juniper. 

“Where is your cousin?” Scott asks.

“I have many cousins McCall, you’ll need to be more specific,” Jackson puts a grin on his face that Scott has never appreciated. Jackson and Scott had always been at odds, Stiles never got the pleasure at formally meeting Jackson, him being an alpha and all, but had heard of his antics. 

“I’m looking for Derek you nitwit,” Scott answers, crossing his arms and huffing out a sigh of frustration. 

“Oh, that dog? He left town a few days ago, told me his job here was mine.” Jackson continues to lead Juniper to the pasture. 

“Is that all he said?”

“How should I know McCall? He told Malia, Malia told me,” Jackson walks past Scott and out of the stable. “Why do you care about my cousin’s whereabouts?”

“It’s not me who wonders,” Scott says.

“I hardly doubt Lord Stilinski is looking for that idiot,” Jackson opens the gate, Scott following him. 

“Where can I find your sister?” 

“At the farm, where else would she be?” Jackson calls back and Scott stops following him. 

Scott looks back to the estate and then to the small path that leads down the town that most of the housestaff use to get to the estate. Jackson releases the horse in the pasture and Scott takes off down the path towards the Hale farm. 

It takes him most of the afternoon, and at the pace it takes, he will return to the estate after dark, but this is an important matter.

The Hale farm is modest, but it is kept in good condition by the many, _many_ Hales that work the land. The farmhouse is a pieced together monstrosity that doesn’t look like it can house that many people, but it does. Scott opens the gate and enters, seeing a small group of boys a few years younger than him in the fields. Closer to the house, a group of girls, probably too young to be working on the farm are sewing what looks like pants. 

“Hello, my name is Scott,” Scott introduces himself, “I am looking for Malia, Jackson’s twin sister. Can you tell me where to find her?” The group of girls points to the barn on the other side of the property. “Thank you.”

Scott jogs to the barn, anxious to get into some shade. Inside, are a few cows and just as many horses. He thinks he even sees a small gathering of chickens. 

“Hello?” he calls out, his voice startles a chicken which collides with a bucker knocking feed all over the floor. 

“Who’s there?” A feminine voice calls out, from behind a stall a girl comes. She is wearing a dress that has grown short on her, but the purple color of it hasn’t faded, though it is patched up quite a bit around the hem. 

“My name is Scott McCall, I work at the Stilinski Estate. I am looking for Malia Hale.”

“That’s me, what can I do for you?” she wipes her hands on her frock. 

“Your brother told me Derek told you when he left. Did he say anything about where he was going?”

“No. All he said to me was that he sold his portion of our land back to my father, with his parents being dead and all, and he was leaving to do the right thing. Said he’d be back in a few days, but that was a few days ago. He didn’t even tell his own sisters where he was going, just me. Gave Jackson his job at the estate, got on his horse and rode off,” Malia cocks her head. “You work at the estate? You sure sound like one of em, with that accent and all.”

“Hardly, but I grew up there. He said he was going to do the right thing? What did he mean?”

“I don’t know, just that it needed money and he sold off his land for it.”

“Thank you,” Scott says turning to exit the barn. 

“You’re not trying to get back to the estate at this time of night?” Malia calls out after him.

“I was intending to, I am the young Lord Stilinski’s companion, I should not have left the estate without his permission in the first place,” Scott pulls the door open and looks to see the sky is nearly dark. 

Scott starts at a decent run back up the path from which he came, back towards the estate. 

* * *

When he gets back he runs through the estate, and up to Stiles’ chambers. He is filthy and covered in sweat and dirt from passing carriages, but he finds Stiles exactly where he left him earlier in the day. 

“Derek-” Scott tries to catch his breath, “Derek went-” He is breathing hard. 

“Take a moment Scott,” Stiles says moving towards him and ushering him into a seat. Scott continues to attempt to catch his breath. “Your mom came and visited me, she tried to get me to drink this tea, she said it would ‘help ease my nausea and the cause of it’ so I think she believes the ruse.” 

“Derek left,” Scott says. Stiles stops his tangent and looks to Scott. 

“You know this how?” 

“I spoke with Jackson and Malia, Derek’s cousins,” Scott stands from where he is seated and walks towards Stiles. “Malia said he sold his share of the family land and left, he said he was the right thing to do.”

“And you think this ‘right thing’ is leaving me to fend for myself against my father and the Martins?” Stiles asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Scott does not say anything, just looks at Stiles from where he stands. “That asshole.”

“Against your wishes, I did not send the letter with Liam. Rather I held on to it. We can still stop this ruse should you wish. Make my mother believe the tea did its job and end the charade before your father or anyone else finds out,” Scott says. 

“No. I am not marrying Lady Martin. I am leaving as planned in three weeks time. Derek be damned,” Stiles feels his heart breaking in a way he never thought possible. Derek was his one true love, the man he knew was the only one for him. His mother’s story filled his head with such ideas of love, and Derek proved all of those right. Except for now. Maybe they were not meant to be despite how much Stiles hoped they would be. “Send the letter.”

* * *

Four days later, Stiles’ father storms into his rooms. 

“Mieczysław, what is this I hear about you being, being-” he makes a motion on the air towards Stiles, but nothing more to indicate what he is really suggesting.

“Being what father?” Stiles places a hand on his flat belly to tease his father even more. He finds it mildly entertaining to see his father react in such a way. 

“I demand to know who did this to you.” There is no jest in his voice, Stiles knows for sure had this been an authentic situation his father would react in the same manner.

“By my life I will not tell you,” Stiles says moving towards his bed, to feign illness again. 

“You insufferable twit. You did this because of the arrangement,” Johnathan yells. “You did this to ruin not only my reputation but your life because your mother lied to you. What a childish thing to do Mieczysław.” Stiles can’t help but wince at the mention of his mother. Over the past weeks, Stiles has grown an understanding of his mother’s actions, though he wishes he was not lied to his entire life, he can see her reasoning. 

“I was in love and bedded long before you called me to your offices. In fact, when you called me in, I was already guessing at my pregnancy,” Stiles says. 

“Melissa says she gave you a tea, to end it, yet you still seem sick with child. Explain.”

“Melissa told you?” Stiles feigns shock. 

“Melissa tells me everything that goes on in this estate while I am providing for it. Do not think I do not know about the affair you had with the stableman in your youth, though I doubt this is that beta mongrel’s doing,” he spits out ‘beta’ like it is vile. “Melissa has not seen him in weeks, probably due to your own whoring by finding an alpha to- to-” he does not finish, turning his back on Stiles and walking out of the room. Over his shoulder he says, “you are fooling yourself if you think I will let this stand. I have done everything in my power to ensure you a comfortable life and yet you disobey me and your mother by destroying yourself in such a way. You will not carry this parasite to term, you will marry the Martin girl, and you will not be welcomed back into this estate. By god you are the biggest disappointment I have ever known.” 

Stiles knows his predicament is false, but the words his father spat at him still crush him in a way he never thought possible. There was always an understanding that his father was not _proud_ to have an omega son, especially after his own omega could not produce an heir that would be able to maintain the Stilinski estate after he passed, but Stiles never suspected his father hated him in such a way. The whole situation is harsh, but hearing those words from his father make tears fall from his eyes that do not compare to those that Derek has caused. 

Stiles has never spent so much time crying, even after they laid his mother to rest. 

* * *

The days to his birthday grow fewer, and Stiles finds himself locked in his rooms. His father will not let him out of the house, not after receiving a very angry letter accusing him of going back on the business with the Martins. Stiles was not to leave his rooms until he drinks the tea Melissa prepares for him. Even Scott is not allowed up during the time. Though they have been sending letters under the door at midnight when the rest of the estate is asleep. 

By Stiles’ false estimation, he estimates his pregnancy is 2 months along, not that it matters. 

Stiles spends his days flicking his mother’s locket open and shut, looking at the face in the small heart over and over again trying to see what she saw. The longer Stiles is stuck in his quarters the more he wants to know about this business with the Martins. His father has not made a reprise to his rooms since the night he called him a disappointment. Stiles would give anything for another chance at a talk before he runs away and never sees the man again. 

There is a knock at the door. Out the window Stiles can see the sun is dipping over the western horizon, suggesting it is dinner time. A key twists in the lock and the door is pushed open. 

“Your dinner Stiles,” it’s Melissa’s voice. A voice he used to treasure as much as his own mother’s, now it feels alien and distant in his ears, “and your tea.”

“I will not drink that vile concoction Melissa.” Stiles turns his head to look at the door. The rations of food have been getting smaller and smaller. Should Stiles actually have been pregnant, the gradual starvation might have been enough for a miscarriage, even without the tea. 

“Please Stiles, your father only wants what’s best for you,” Melissa pleads.

“I want to speak with him,” Stiles demands, standing from his bed. 

“Stiles-”

“No Melissa. As much as he has to say to me, I have to say to him. I will not drink this until I have spoken with him.” Stiles sits back on his bed, turned away from Melissa and the tray of food and drink she has. 

“I will see what I can do,” he hears her place the tray on the chest of drawers near the door. Stiles’ stomach gargles with hunger pains but he refuses to move. The door closes and locks behind her. He wants very much to move to where the food was left and eat the little food that is there, but should his father see his desperation, he might grow more cruel, so Stiles remains on the bed, looking out the window at the stables. 

A few moments pass, enough that the sun dips down and the heavenly sunset gives way to deep black sky. Stars peek through clouds and the moon shines bright. 

The key turns again, and the door pushes open. 

“Mieczysław,” his father’s voice is instantly recognizable, “you asked to see me.”

Stiles turns to look at his father. In all the years Stiles has been alive, he does not think he has ever seen his father in his night clothes. 

“Dad,” Stiles says, feeling the surprise in his own voice. “I’m sorry if I disturbed your evening plans-”

Johnathan holds up his hand to silence him. “I will give you ten minutes time Mieczysław, nothing more.” He crosses his arms over himself and raises his eyebrows to Stiles. Stiles stands from his bed, wearing his own night clothes. He suddenly feels much younger than he is. 

“Why do you insist on keeping the arrangement with the Martins?” Stiles asks, “I am of little value now, what makes this business so important?”

Johnathan sighs, bringing up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “That was something your mother could never understand either. The Martins are decent people. You were but 5 when negotiations started. They promised me you could keep the estate.”

“The estate?”

“Yes. Your mother knew from first hand experience you would not keep the estate should I die. As an omega, you have no right to it. The estate goes to the alpha heir, of which I had none. The Martins are well off, but their town is changing, no longer needing the lord and lady to live. They offered their daughter to me and welcomed the estate, which would remain under your control, something unheard of for an omega. Your mother could never see that I was trying to give you precisely what she lost.”

“Mom did not miss her estate. I assure you. In her stories, it was not the castle that held her heart.”

“Stability was never something your mother appreciated. That serf could never give her the life she wanted, the life she was used to.” Johnathan looks around the room, as if to exemplify his point. 

Stiles remembers his own conversation with Derek in the stables. “Why do you assume that she had not accepted the potential life she could have had with Edison?”

“He was a peasant boy, a no name whom she stumbled upon in the market as a young woman, not yet 17. What did she know of happiness?” Johnathan sits on the edge of Stiles’ bed, sinking into the soft surface forcing him to look up to Stiles.

“What do you know of happiness?” Stiles looks down to his father’s eyes. “Have you never been in love father?”

“I was, once, maybe even twice, but neither time was it appropriate and I was married to your mother by arrangement of my father and hers before he died.”

“If you have known love, why would you shackle me to a marriage like the one you experienced with my mother? It has come to my attention that my marrying for love was not the only lie I was told as a child. I supposed making me believe you were happily married was an easy lie for you just as her own was for her. You say harsh things to me, but you seem to care for my future,” Stiles straightens and continues to look down to his father. “I love him,” he pauses, “loved him. This is his child and I will not allow such poison to kill my love. Send me away, lock me in this room, do what you please, but the agreement with the Martins is off.” Stiles turns to exit his bedchamber to his library where a fire is roaring. 

“To hell it is,” Jonhnathan stands up and closes the distance between him and Stiles. 

“Dying alone with a bastard and no estate is more honorable than living a lie,” Stiles says looking his father straight in the eye. The alpha is a least 6 inches taller than him, but Stiles has never been one to be intimidated by physicality. 

Johnathan backs away, “you fool. Just like your mother, with your head in the stars.” He turns on his heels and walks to the door and pulls it open with greater force than necessary. 

“Oh father. Just for your own edification, she did accept the life she would have lived with Edison, just as I had accepted my life with my love before you announced my betrothal to Lady Martin. It was never about the money father, it was about happiness and love. Something, I fear you have never understood,” Stiles says feeling his chest puff out in a manner he has only seen in alphas and betas. 

Without another word, John smashes the tray of food onto the floors and steps on the loaf of bread with his bare foot before closing the door and locking it. 

Stiles’ heart is heavy in his chest as he watches the door for minutes after his father’s footsteps return down the staircase. He wishes there was someone else here to hold him, to comfort him, to tell him everything is going to be alright. He has one set of arms in mind, but those arms have disappeared and are unlikely to return to him. Instead, Stiles sits in a chair in his library and pulls out a book from between the cushion and begins reading to ignore the hunger of his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: Scott starts the rumor of the false pregnancy, Melissa and John want to terminate the pregnancy, Derek is missing, and Stiles is locked in his room.   
> Warning: Discussion of abortion/termination, John isn't a great dad in this, name calling,  
> Character introductions: Jackson and Malia, here they are twins and cousins of Derek. 
> 
> If you like, please consider leaving a comment! Comments really encourage me to keep up with this. This is mostly already written, but that doesn't mean comments go unread or are not motivating. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles escapes with the help of Scott. A familiar face returns. Family secrets are revealed in Stiles' absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm settling into my new apartment very well, and I'm so excited to keep working on this! I really hope you are all liking this, there haven't been too many comments so I really don't know what readers are thinking, so please consider dropping a comment and letting me know what you think! 
> 
> Content and warnings in end notes.
> 
> Without further ado...

It is the eve of Stiles’ birthday, and therefore the last day he will ever spend in his childhood rooms. He looks around mournfully, this is the room he spent hours playing with Scott, and where his mother sang him to sleep on countless nights. 

The bitter nearly outweighs the sweet. After today, he will be on his own, no Scott, no father, no Derek. Just him and the road in the woods. 

Scott has been pinnacle in the planning of his escape. Having been immobilized in his rooms, he has depended on Scott to get everything ready. If everything has gone according to plan, there is a satchel filled with 2 weeks worth of food in the stable, and an extra set of his alpha-scented clothes to mask over Stiles obvious omega scent, which will hopefully be enough to trick any passersby of his sex. Scott has even gone so far as to steal a bit of money from his father, it’s not much, only about 25 shillings, but it’s enough to last another week or so on the path before Stiles has to stop and find something more permanent. Three weeks on the run seems like simultaneously so long and not long enough to evade his father. 

At least Stiles will have Roscoe, Scott has worked to make the saddle unrecognizable. Scorching off the family crest and dying it black from it’s normal brown. Stiles truly does not know what he would have done without Scott. 

The escape is set for the early hours of the morning, when the estate is sure to be asleep. Stiles spends the whole day searching through his room, for anything he wishes to take with him. His mother’s locket in his pocket, a heavy reminder of why he has to do this, but other than that small token, nothing seems worth the value to carry in an escape. 

The sun dips down under the horizon, a grandfather clock strikes eight. 

There’s a knock at the door, too early to be anyone but Melissa as she is the only one who sees him. 

“Your drink Stiles,” she sets the cup of tea on the dresser. Since his discussion with his father a few days prior, she has only brought the tea.

“You and I both know I am not drinking that Melissa, I would rather throw it in his face than ingest it,” Stiles does not look away from the window. 

“Your father will be in shortly, please sweetheart,” Melissa asks, but Stiles does not move from his stance. The door closes and locks. Stiles still stares out the window, to the stables. 

True to her word, a few moments later the key twists in the lock again, and the door opens. His father speaks, “should you not drink this today, the aramgent with the Martins is over. They have sent a letter stating they know of your- state. They will not accept you in such a condition.”

“I have told you before father that the business has been long over, yet you insist on believing that easy lie which you have been telling yourself,” his father draws closer to Stiles, and the closer he comes the more apparent the alcohol on his breath grows. 

“Why do you choose to be so difficult Mieczysław? Why can you never be content with what I give you?”

“Because you never ask what I want,” Stiles stares out the window, unmoving. 

“What do you want Mieczysław?” Johnathan asks, for the first time in Stiles’ life. 

Stiles turns to his father, “I want to marry for love,” Stiles sees his father roll his eyes, “I want to live on my husband’s farm and to raise kids. That is all that I want, father.” Stiles sees the disappointment in his father’s face, “Why is it so important that I keep the estate?”

“Because this is the only life you know. You cannot possibly live on a- a farm! You have no skill other than sitting and mope around all day long, legs splayed open for any alpha to enter, and wanting for things that do not make sense!”

“Why do people insist I cannot live in any life but this one? I grow exhausted trying to explain to everyone that I do not need this estate to be happy, yet you all insist you know better than I!” Stiles raises his voice to match his father’s, something he has never done before. 

“You are nothing but an omega Mieczysław, you  _ know _ nothing other than how to spread your legs and complain about ennui!” John towers over his son, his face is red and there is a vein on his forehead. This close, Stiles can smell just how intoxicated his father is. Stiles feels tears forming in his eyes, a reaction of his being an omega. He hates it. 

“You can take your tea and shove it up your -” Johnathan strikes him across the face. 

“You insufferable  _ child _ , you will die in this room, should I have anything to say about it.” A maniacal smile forms on his lips, “And I do have something to say about it.” Jonathan turns quickly and picks up the glass of tea from the dresser where Melissa had left it. 

Instantly, Stiles knows what is happening. He puts his arms out, in an attempt to keep his father away but their size difference is too great. Jonathan is a drunk alpha, close to nothing will stop him from what he is about to do. 

He grabs Stiles’ chin, placing his fingers on Stiles’ jaw to prevent it from closing, he pours the tea into his mouth, while Stiles cries and pulls at his father’s hands at his face and thrashes his body. Johnathan tosses the cup on the floor once all the contents have been poured into Stiles’ mouth, it shatters. With one hand he pinches Stiles’ nose, and the other he closes his mouth, holding his head until Stiles is forced to swallow. Only then does Johnathan release Stiles. 

Stiles falls to the floor, eyes sobbing despite his knowing there is no baby for the tea to harm, and gasping for breath. Rather, it was the actions his father took that seemed to hurt the most. His father truly was a monster. 

“I pray to the gods that tomorrow is the last day I ever have to see your shameful face.” Johnathan looks to where Stiles has fallen to the floor and without another word, exits the room and locks the door behind as he leaves. 

Stiles lays on the floor, crying, and holding his stomach though there is nothing in it. Had Stiles known this plan would cause him so much grief, perhaps he would have just married Lady Martin to spare him the pain of the past month. 

He is not sure how much time he spends on the floor, but the next thing he knows the sun is no longer in the sky, rather the moon taking its place at the zenith. The only thing that pries him off the floor is the sound of someone knocking at the door. There is no sound of a key turning, and darkness of his chambers indicate it is sometime in the night. Stiles moves towards the door and wipes away the remainder of the tears stained on his face. 

“Stiles?” It is Scott’s hushed voice on the other side of the door. 

“Scott?” As soon as Stiles replies, a key turns in the lock and soon the door is swung open. Immediately, Scott brings Stiles into a hug needing the comfort of a friendly face, but also knowing this would be one of the last times he ever saw his childhood companion again. 

“Look who I found hiding in the bushes of the stable,” Scott says quietly to Stiles while still embracing. From around the corner someone’s figure becomes apparent in the darkness of the estate. The two end their embrace as Stiles squints in hopes of getting a clearer image of the person walking towards him. He is not sure whom to expect with this timing, though they seem important if Scott thought to bring them into the house on such a night.

“Stiles?” he grows rigid in recognition, his gaze shifts from the form in the hall to Scott.

“Why would you bring Derek to a night such as this? He cannot convince me to stay if that is what you thought by bringing him here,” Stiles crosses his arms, though he would very much prefer to bring Derek into a hug. It has only been a month’s time since they last saw each other. Even momentarily he thinks to stay just to avoid having to never see his love again. The situation, however, requires it. 

“Stiles, no, listen,” Stiles motions for Derek to come closer into the faint light of Stiles’ bedroom. “Derek didn’t abandon you as we thought.”

“Wait, you thought I abandoned you?” Derek asks.

Both Stiles and Scott are quiet and look to each other, then they both look to Derek. Stiles says, “pray tell, what were we supposed to think when you told your cousin you were leaving because it was the right thing to do?”

“I sold my land for the money, true, but I told my cousin I was going ahead to find some land for us on which to live, with you. I told her I was doing the right thing by preparing a place to hide and perhaps,” he hesitates, “start a life,” Derek’s eyes seem sincere in the dark light. 

“Then why-”

“Please Stiles, as much as I would love to have this discussion here and now, we have to get you out of here before sun up,” Scott interrupts because somehow in the reunion with Derek, Stiles forgot that his life is at stake and he needs to escape before it sets in stone. 

“Right, sorry,” Stiles turns to the room for one last glance. He no longer needs anything in this room, in this estate, in this life. His mother’s locket is in his pocket, that is all he wants to take with him from this existence. 

Scott ushers Stiles down the stairs, Derek behind him. 

The halls of the estate are dark. As a child Stiles thought the old house was haunted by its drafts and odd sounds. With this final walk through, Stiles acknowledges that this is a place he knows, it is familiar and it is a place he will never forget, but he also will not miss it. The tall walls represent nothing but the cage he has lived in for the past 18 years, having never even been to town.

Getting out of the estate seems easier than it should have been. Guards have never been necessary, but some part of Stiles thought in light of the situation, there might be some obstacles to leaving the estate. He is not sure whether to be grateful at the ease, or insulted that no one thought he would plot an escape such as this. 

“It feels as though it is an ordinary night, and I am sneaking to the kitchen for a snack,” Stiles whispers. The exit they plan to take is nowhere near his father’s rooms, but Stiles still finds himself wanting to be cautious. 

They exit through the door into the courtyard. The swing hangs still on the metal structure. Stiles stops for a moment and remembers his mother’s hand on his back as she pushed him in the springtime. While the estate was a prison, the courtyard was his recess. The adventures he and Scott went on while playing here let him escape even as a child. 

In earlier years, he had dreamed of pushing his children on the very same swing. Now, he wishes nothing more than to see them play in open fields on a swing hung from a tree branch. 

The three are quiet all the way to the stable, where Roscoe is ready with several canvas bags strapped to him. Stiles is also surprised to see Camaro strapped with a few packages as well. 

“Here,” Scott says, pushing yet another bag to Stiles. “Change into these.” Stiles takes the bag and opens it to find a change of clothes.

The stall where Roscoe usually lives is empty so Stiles enters and closes the door, hoping for privacy from Scott and Derek. He quickly changes into the clothes that smell so heavily of Scott. He exits the stall, the clothes hanging oddly off of his body. 

“What are you wearing?” Derek asks.

“No one will stop me should I smell like an alpha,” Stiles states trying to keep cold to Derek. 

“Then wear mine,” Derek says. 

“Why?” Stiles looks at Derek, eyebrows raised. 

Derek huffs a sigh, “I understand why you are upset with me. I should not have left with no word to you directly. But I promise I left to prepare for this,” Derek insists. “No only this night, but every night that comes after.”

“It would help if he went,” Scott rationalizes, though Stiles is beginning to hate Scott for being so logical. “He is already packed, and he has not been at the estate the entire time, so no one will connect your disappearance and his.”

“I do hate it when you make sense,” Stiles says. “You can come, but as far as you know, we are no longer pursuing each other.” Derek smiles, and nods his head once, before turning to Camaro to ready him for the journey. “Where are we going?” Stiles asks Derek.

“To a sma-”

“It is best that I not know where you are fleeing, should the Lord interrogate me.”

“That is true,” Derek answers while looking to Stiles. 

Stiles turns to Scott. 

“I will miss you Scott,” Stiles says, then pulls his lifelong companion into a hug. He cannot help the tears that well up in his eyes. Out of this entire situation, leaving Scott behind is the hardest part. 

“I have always loved you like a brother Stiles,” Scott says into Stiles’ shoulder. “I never dreamed we would be apart, but since we must part, I must admit I am glad you have the company of someone who loves you almost as much as I do.” The darkness of the stable is enough to cover the tears that stream from both their faces. Stereotypically, alphas do not share emotions as much as omegas, but Scott has never been like most alphas. 

The two stand there in an embrace for a few moments longer. 

Derek clears his throat, which seems to be enough to bring them out of the brotherly love spell they were under. “We should go while the sun is still down, the roads will be less crowded,” Derek’s voice is one of reasons at this moment. Stiles feels the unimaginable need to turn around, go back inside and forget this whole scheme. Derek mounts Camaro easily, his stature always one to impress. Scott helps lift Stiles onto the back of Roseco, even his riding boots a size or two larger than his normal ones which are tucked up in his wardrobe. 

“Goodbye brother,” Stiles says, his hand reaching down for one last touch. 

“Goodbye brother,” Scott repeats, reaching his own hand up. Stiles nudges Roscoe forward. Scott looks to Derek, “You take care of him, or I swear I will find you.”

“I have no doubt you will Scott,” Derek smiles accepting the threat. Scott does not seem happy with the response and flashes his alpha red eyes at Derek, whose own beta blue flash in response. Stiles watches curiously, for he has never seen Scott use his alpha eyes on anyone in the entire time they have known each other. “I will care for him with all my life, and love him for more.” 

“Alright,” Scott says just as Derek nudges Roscoe forward. 

Derek navigates in front of Stiles and starts down the path towards town. Stiles’ stomach is in knots, this is the first time he will be leaving the grounds of the estate, and the last time he will ever set foot on it. Roscoe follows Camaro almost instinctively, though he seems confused to be going in a direction he has never gone before. 

Just at the edge of the property, Stiles looks back to see Scott, a tiny version of himself at the door of the stable waving with his arms. Stiles cannot help but wave back as Roscoe carries him over the horizon and Scott disappears from sight. 

They travel a few more moments in silence. Derek wishes to engage in conversation but he acknowledges Stiles’ need for quiet. They approach town in a matter of moments.

“Are you ready?” Derek asks as they reach a road which forks. The sign announces going right will take them to town, a well worn path that many have travelled, the left a path barely discernible from the foliage surrounding it with no clue as to the destination. Derek and Camaro are poised to turn left.

Stiles takes a deep breath, seeks the comfort of his mother’s locket in his pocket and looks to Derek, his knight, “yes.”

Stiles and Derek travel down the road side by side when the width of the road allows. The sun is high above them if the shadows of the leaves covering the road are accurate. 

“How do you know your father will not come after you?” Derek asks, finally disturbing the quiet that had grown between them.

“Last night,” Stiles starts, his throat growing tighter than he expected, “last night he came into my rooms. He told me I was an insufferable child whom he would be glad to never see again. Oh, wonderful news, the false pregnancy ruse worked wonders. He believed it so much that he forced a tea on me that would cause termination after the Martins cancelled the arrangement. I’m sure my father was about to send me back to school and deny my return.” Stiles lets out a dry laugh.

“Stiles-” Derek looks to Stiles, he is slumped on the saddle.

“Just not now Der,” he is looking down, clearly not in the mood for further discussion. 

* * *

A scream comes from the third floor of the estate. Scott hears it all the way from the kitchen. 

“Lord Stilinski!” It’s his mother’s voice, she had just taken Stiles his breakfast meal. She repeats the call down the stairs, through the house and to his chambers. Scott exits the kitchen and follows his mother’s path to Lord Stilinski’s rooms at a respectful distance as to not be detected. 

His mother knocks at the door vigorously. It is too early in the morning for the Lord to be awake by his own doing. Seeing a sleepy and pajama clad Lord was something Scott never expected to see. 

“What is it Mel?” Lord Stilinski says. Scott is taken aback by the casual tone between them.

“John,” Scott feels himself gawk, just how friendly is his mother with the lord? In all of Scott’s years, he does not think he ever heard Lady Stilinski call the lord anything but his full name or by his formal title. Why did his mother use such casual language with the lord? “He is gone.”

“Who is gone?” The lord asks.

“Stiles,” she whispers. 

“Quiet,” Lord Stilinski says. “Come inside so we are not overheard.” They go into the lord’s room, Scott sneaks closer in an attempt to hear through the door. “Continue,” the lord says when he thinks they are alone. 

“Stiles is  _ gone _ . I went to his rooms to give him his breakfast meal and he was not inside!” She whispers loudly. 

“What do you mean? Did you check the library? You know he enjoys reading,” the lord asks. There seems to be a hint of worry in his voice, something Scott never expected to hear from the man. 

“I have checked everywhere in his rooms. Even under the bed like when he was a child but I found nothing,” his mother says. “The doors and windows were locked, there is no way he could have gotten out.” The two pause. 

“Have you asked Scott? You know those two are thick as thieves,” Scott hears the lord asks his mother. Had he heard correctly? Did the lord call him by his name? He had no idea the lord even knew his name.

“I have not seen Scott since yesterday,” Melissa admits. 

“Then they escaped together, damn those boys,” the lord swears, “I knew raising them together would prove to be a problem. 

“They are brothers John, they share blood,” Melissa says and this causes Scott to pause. ‘Share blood’? Sure he and Stiles share a brotherly love, but there is no way that he and Stiles were more than just childhood companions. “We are fortunate that Claudia looked the other way all those years ago. Or maybe she herself never knew of the truth.” Scott listens to his mother. A sick feeling manifests in his stomach. 

“No matter, we must find those boys before something happens and they harm themselves.” Scott hears the lord walk to the door, and Scott takes a few steps back to avoid being caught. 

“Perhaps,” his mother calls, “the search can wait just a few moments longer my love?” her own voice getting closer to the door. Scott feels his jaw drop. There is a sound of kissing, it is faint but unmistakable. 

“Hmmm, as much as I would love to spend the day in your arms, I have to find my sons before they can get into any more trouble. They most likely have been scheming for this for as long as Stiles knew of the arrangement,” Lord Stilinski says, there is another sound of kissing, but Scott does not lay in wait for it to end. Instead he takes a few steps back and sprints back towards the kitchen. 

He grabs a piece of bread and some preserve from the pantry and spreads it like the worst trouble he’s gotten into today is making himself breakfast.

A few moments later, his mother comes into the kitchen, “oh!” she exclaims seeing Scott. “You startled me Scott.”

“Sorry mom,” Scott says, taking another bite from his bread and preserve. 

“Um, have you- Stiles is missing,” she announces. Scott feins surprise, his bread still in his mouth as his eyebrows go up. “Would you know anything about this?”

Scott’s mouth is full when he replies, “no mom.” He swallows, “I haven’t seen Stiles since Lord Stilinski banished him to his rooms. I’ve been worried about him,” Scott admits, because it’s true, he adds, “and the baby.”

His mother pinches the bridge of her mouth tight, and looks to Scott. She takes a seat next to him and brings a hand up over his shoulder. 

“Stiles’ troubles have brought up questions of my own mom,” Scott starts, taking her hand into his where it lay on his shoulder. “I know you don’t like to talk about my father,” at the mention of him Melissa attempts to stand, but Scott’s hand is too tight around her wrist to allow her to escape the conversation. “But I can’t help but feel empathy with Stiles’ baby, who will never know his father, like me.”

“I have always told you that you’re father-”

“Loves me very much, and has given me all that he can,” Scott finishes for his mother. It has been the same answer since he was a boy and first inquieried of his father. 

“Yes Scott. Do not forget that,” Scott lossens his grip on her hand. “There will be no need to worry for Stiles’ child anymore,” Melissa pulls her hand free from Scott’s and moves around the workbench and picks up her mortar and pestle, just to have something to do with her hands. 

“What- what happened to Stiles’ baby?” Scott asks, because he did not hear Stiles say anything about the subject last night during his escape. 

“Lord Stilinski took care of it,” she smashes some herbs. “There will be no more discussion on the subject. Now, do you know where Stiles went? As I said, he has gone missing and you do not seem concerned.”

“Well considering you just suggested Lord Stilinski killed Stiles’ baby, I do not see a reason Stiles should want to stay,” Scott’s own mind was reeling that Lord Stilinski would take the life of a child in such a way. The ruse of the pregnancy seemed to have brought out people’s true nature. Scott wonders what else happened behind that closed door.. 

“Scott,” his mother scoffs his name. 

“How can you stand to work for a man who not only married off his only son, but  _ killed _ his grandchild?” Scott stands. His mother is an omega, and reacts to an angry alpha by trying to make herself smaller. They are quiet for a moment, Scott thinks over the conversation he overheard between his mother and the Lord. The epiphany lights his brain up with immediate understanding. “He is my father.”

Melissa does not say anything, just looks to her song with surprise on her face, “Scott-”

“Lord Stilinski is my father. Am I wrong?” Scott cannot believe how small and fragile his mother looks at this moment. The secret that has lasted as long as Scott has been able to breathe now out in the open. Her lack of explanation proves it. “My god. It makes sense.”

“My son-” Melissa has tears in her eyes, the mortar and pestle forgotten on the workbench.

“That is why I was raised in the estate, why my presence never triggered Stiles’ heat, and why Stiles tells me I am more educated than housestaff of other estates. We love one another as brothers because we  _ are _ brothers” Scott waits for a response from his mother. It makes sense. Scott and Stiles were born months apart, Scott being a few months older than Stiles. However, being the illegitimate son of a lord does not allow him the same privileges as a legitimate son. When one does not come, he continues, “you don’t deny it.”

“I can’t, my son,” Melissa says, her head down in shame. 

Rage fills the belly of his stomach. For  _ years _ he had watched Lord Stilinski bully and demean Stiles, standing uselessly to the side because he was a simple house servant, nothing to the man who oversaw the town.

“How could you deny me this information? And for so long?”

“You were a love child, in every meaning of the word,” Melissa starts. “Should anyone have found out, his reputation would have been ruined.”

“For once, please mom, tell me the truth of how I was born.”

“John and I-” she pauses and brings up her hand to play with the collar of her frock, “we fell in love. I was hired to the estate when I was 17, Johnathan was 21, but set to be married. I never intended to… it was not supposed to happen, but it did.” Melissa looks to Scott who has a band running through his hair. “John and Claudia got married, and I was sure I would be dismissed, but John let me stay. I became friends with Claudia, on accident really. She became a close friend of mine, something none of us expected. John would visit me at nights, an easy task since he and the Lady did not sleep in the chamber. 

“I fell pregnant, and when Claudia saw the rounding of my belly, she quickly followed suit, hoping our little ones would be best friends.” 

“That is why she was so maternal to me, and you maternal towards Stiles then?” Scott asks. 

“Yes.”

“Did she know of your affair with Lord Stilinski?”

“It is hard to say, sometimes she would look at you, your face, and search it. For what I was never sure, I don’t believe you and he look alike in the slightest. She seemed to have wanted to live in as many self inflicting lies as she could.”

“And you never told me this, for the sake of his reputation?” Scott asks, his mother only nods once. The kitchen is quiet and full of tension. Scott stands to leave the room, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here. He wants to discuss this with Stiles, knowing he cannot do that, so instead he will go about his normal duties in the estate until he can think of something to do, or a way to use this information to help Stiles in his escape. 

“You were never meant to know this,” his mother calls out from behind him, Scott stops in the doorway, listening to his mother tear up from her own confession. He does not say anything to her, instead he exits the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: Stiles and John have one more conversation before Stiles' plan to escape, in this John forces Stiles to drink the tonic that will terminate his pregnancy (it's a fake pregnancy remember), and slaps Stiles across the face. Derek returns with an explanation for his leaving. Scott learns who his father is. 
> 
> Warnings: Forced abortion, Physical abuse, 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!
> 
> Please consider dropping a comment! It really helps me figure out if y'all are liking this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John confronts Scott, then Scott confronts John. There's a wedding and a change in rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm really excited about this chapter, this is the longest chapter I have written for this fic, so I really hope you like it.  
> Things to note with this chapter:  
> 1) The rating of this fic has been changed from Mature to Explicit. As I note in the prologue, I have been away from this fic for a while so I forgot there was explicit material in this fic.  
> 2) The number of chapters decreased from 12 to 10. I only have 9 chapters written (this includes the prologue) and I believe I can wrap it up either in the last chapter I have or in one more chapter. I'm not sure, I don't have it completely written yet, so we shall see.  
> 3) I /really/ appreciate your comments on the last chapter. I really don't know why, but getting comments makes it so much easier to return to works. 
> 
> And I also wanted to remind everyone that in the chapter prior to this, Stiles was not really pregnant when John forced him to take the abortion tea, the fake pregnancy is part of his escape plan. 
> 
> Content and warnings in the end notes. :)

Derek and Stiles travel at a steady pace. Derek leads the way, and Stiles trails a few feet behind. While still at the estate, he and Derek would go for rides everyday. They would go to the lake nearby and spend hours on the ground, sometimes silently taking in the time they spent together, other times Stiles talking up a storm about his adventures away at school. 

This ride proves to offer an opportunity so much better than a few hours of being unaccounted for while sneaking around the estate. 

Getting to the point of conversation outside of calls for restroom or meal breaks is the issue. 

Stiles grows bored soon, and while he is still mad at Derek for leaving him with no note or real explanation, he no longer wants to be mad at Derek. 

“Are we there yet?” Stiles asks, breaking the otherwise silence of their ride so far. 

“Do not start that now, because we are only one day into a week long ride,” Derek says over his shoulder.

“Can you at least tell me where we are going? Scott is no longer around to let our destination slip.” 

“When I left, I sold my portion of the Hale land to my uncle. I took Camaro, and rode a weeks time as hard as I could. There is a small village called Beacon Hills at the end of that week’s ride. I found some land, one with a small house, and I bought it. I spent two weeks getting it ready for you, and a week to return,” Derek says.

“You sold your land?” Stiles says, loosening the reins on Roscoe enough to cause the house to stop, Derek gets a few paces ahead before turning his head. He pulls Camaro to a stop as well and turns back in the direction where Stiles sits. 

“Of course,” Derek answers, “did you think we would rush off on a whim and be able to buy land at an instant with no money?”

“And you bought me a house?”

“Did you expect us to live in the woods in tents?” Derek’s face breaks into a smile, and it is as mesmerizing as Stiles remembers. Stiles nudges Roscoe with his foot, leading the horse to pull up to Derek. He drops the reins and reaches his hands out for Derek’s face. 

“I love you,” Stiles says, pulling Derek in for a kiss. It feels as though it is the first rain of the summer, the kiss lifts a boulder off of Stiles chest, one he did not know was weighing him down, and made slightly awkward by the distance of the horses under them. “I love you,” Stiles says again, in between kisses. 

“I love you too Stiles,” Derek says, breaking the kiss, “do not ever doubt that.”

“So long as you do not doubt my love for you again.” Stiles quickly dismounts Roscoe, and hands the reins to Derek, who ties them to Camaro. Derek reaches his hand down to help Stiles mount Camaro. Quickly Stiles settles behind Derek on the saddle, wrapping his arms around Derek’s chest and digging his face into the beta’s back. Scott’s clothes still smell of alpha, but it has been a day and a half and Stiles’ natural omega scent is coming through at the edges. 

Derek nudges Camaro forward, and Roscoe follows on the side. Stiles nuzzles into Derek’s back as they continue down the road. 

* * *

“I want him back here  _ now! _ ” John’s voice is like nothing Melissa has ever heard. Sure, she has seen the man angry before, but this is unlike anything before. The men exit his office, all seemingly shocked to have been yelled at in such a manner by a man who holds the reputation of being very calm and docile. 

Melissa slips into the room after the last member of the hired search party exits. 

“Johnathan?” She asks, seeing him standing hunched over his desk, head bowed down looking at the maps spread out beneath him. “John?” she repeats. 

John looks up, anger in his eyes before he sees that it is Melissa. “Mel.” As soon as he says the name, his eyes fill with tears and he cannot help when one falls to wet the map he was just looking at. Melissa walks around the desk and pulls the man into a hug. Alphas have always sought comfort in omegas. John shudders with a sob. “Where did he go Mel?”

Melissa does not know what to say. Mostly because there is so much to say. “I spoke with Scott,” she starts, not sure where she is going with it. John releases her, but still holds her close as he looks her in the eye, which somehow makes it worse and she just wants to look away and escape his gaze. “He knows,” she says. 

“Then bring him in,” he immediately breaks their embrace, “we need to find Mieczysław before he spreads his legs for another stupid alpha,” John starts towards the door, but Melissa holds up her hand to stop him. 

“No Johnathan, Scott  _ knows, _ ” Melissa looks him straight in the eye and raises her eyebrows. 

“Oh,” John replies, understanding what she means. “How did he-”

“I am not sure. We were discussing Stiles and his bastard. Then Scott said he sympathized with Stiles’ child, not having a proper father. Somehow he made the connection,” Melissa closes the space between them again, placing her hands on his chest, looking up to him slightly. 

Johnathan places a kiss on her forehead. “He claims to know nothing of Stiles’ disappearance then.”

“He didn’t say that, but he said he understood why Stiles would choose to leave, after you married him off and gave him the tea,” Melissa says into his chest while his head rests on hers. 

The couple remains silent between them, John’s mind going through all the possible scenarios of the news. 

“The Martins have fully withdrawn their offer for Mieczysław. I need to figure out something new for the estate should we not find Mieczysław,” John sits back down at his desk, and pulls open his ledgers to start making a plan for the estate. Melissa bows and backs out of the room as she sees The Lord fall back into his work.

* * *

The servant quarters were not a place Johnathan visited, though he knew for certain this is where he would find Scott. Melissa had given him instructions how to find their rooms, which were close to the kitchen. This area of the estate was far less presentable than the rest, having been for staff to do their work. Still, John is surprised to see just how sparse this area of the house presents itself. 

John reaches the door which Melissa told him was Scott’s and he knocks. It feels weird, knocking to enter a room in his own house, to the room that is his son’s. He can never remember a time he knocked before entering Stiles’ rooms.

“Come in,” Scott calls from the inside of the room, prompting John to turn the doorknob and push it open. Scott is laying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling which has exposed wooden beams. There is a small desk, scattered with paper and a couple of books which John assumes is his work from the tutor he hired for the boy. A chest sits at the foot of the bed, open and displaying a mess of clothing. Other than that, the room is bare. Scott looks to the door. “Oh,” he immediately stands and averts his eyes, something that a house servant would do to his master, not a son to a father. 

“Scott,” John says. Scott says nothing, just continues to avert his gaze. “Your uh- your mother tells me you learned of your true relation to myself,” Scott remains silent. “Do you- is there anything you would like to ask me?”

Scott finally looks up to John. “Not really, no.”

John nods slightly. He had expected many things, questions of his place in the household, why he had not been told sooner. The one thing he was not expecting was an apathy towards the subject. 

“Very well,” John says, moving towards Scott instead of exiting like he planned. “I want you to know-,” he pauses, lifting his hand to place on the boy’s shoulder but stopping when Scott gives him a look of warning, “Scott, that there is money set aside for you in the estate. You need not worry about my taking care of you and your mother should anything happen to me.” 

That seems to strike a nerve because Scott immediately grows angry and yells, “there is money for me in your estate but not enough for Stiles? Why is it that I, your bastard son, has more claim to your money than your legitimate son?”

“It is your right as my alpha heir, legitimate or not,” John replies. That is how it has always been, alpha children are superior in the family, with omegas being the least of the three with betas only being slightly above them. 

“But is it right? Stiles has been your son his entire life, and I have been your son for a day, yet you seem more keen to give me your money and power than him,” Scott stands up to John. 

“It is not a fair system but it is the system we have,” John says, raising his voice to Scott. 

“I refuse to accept that. I am not your heir, Stiles is, I am your employee. I refuse to acknowledge you as anything but my employer,” Scott stands to John, measuring up to equal heights. For so long, Scott saw the lord as a man of conviction, as someone to respect and honor, and be proud that he worked for such a man. Yet, since Scott found out about Stiles’ betrothal, Lord Stilinski has been fading in his eyes to nothing more than a coward. “Do you love Stiles?” Scott asks, looking to the lord. 

The Lord tightens his lips and sighs, giving Scott the answer he needs. 

“Because I do. I have loved Stiles as a brother since we were kids, far before I knew myself fully and certainly before I knew actually were brothers. I want to see him happy, because that is what you wish for people you love.”

“Mieczysław is my son-” John takes a few steps back, as though he wishes to back out of the room. Scott continues to press him.

“A son who you do not respect enough to call by the name he chose for himself. You do not know the grief he feels when you call him by his birth name. Stiles is your son, yet you keep the information of his betrothal to Lady Martin a secret from him for years, only to reveal it a month before he must leave. He is the son you let believe a lie enough that he went and found a love he was not willing to give up. 

“In the process it seems the marriage between Lady Stilinski and yourself was not a happy one, each of you had a lost love. While my mother was your solace, Lady Stilinski only had her son. She poured so much love into him, and perhaps she poured too much hope in him but Stiles was ready to make a life outside of this estate. He knew you were not going to leave him anything, and in the end, he was  _ fine _ with the fact, because he had his love.”

“What do you know of this  _ ‘love’ _ Mieczysław had? Are they the one he ran off with?” John tries to find a leg to stand on in the argument, though Scott will not let him. 

“I do not know, he kept it a secret, scared you would retaliate and do something horrid like,” Scott huffs out a laugh, “like marry him off because you disapproved of him.” It was the truth. Stiles swore Scott to secrecy about his affair with Derek, scared the lord would fire Derek and send him off to be married to some stranger that would make a better political alliance. Scott raises his eyebrows to John, “I suppose he never had much faith in you.” He backs off of the lord, and goes to the door and holds it open. “It is  _ your _ fault Stiles is gone. It is  _ your _ fault if we do not find him.”

“Scott, I-”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?” Scott slips back into his servant voice, one that is quiet and submissive, a voice he learned was the only way in which he could speak to the man. 

“I suppose not,” John says, his tone of voice softer than anything Scott has ever heard come out of the man’s mouth. Without another word, the lord walks out of the room. He looks back for a moment at Scott’s face just before he closes the door to his tiny room. 

* * *

Stiles and Derek are four days into their journey to Beacon Hills. They are passing through a larger town called Trenton. Derek has them registered at an inn, where they have a meal in the tavern and Derek has a drink. 

Derek had noticed how quiet Stiles had been since they decided to stop for the night and rest on a real bed since they started their journey. 

“What is wrong my love?” Derek asks, bringing up his stout for a sip. They are sitting on the same side of a small booth table, Stiles tucked between Derek and the wall and pulled into Derek’s side. Scott’s scent had faded now, and Derek’s scent was slowly taking up the space it used to be. 

“I’m-” Stiles looks at Derek, he can see the omega’s face blushing even in the low light of the tavern, “nervous.” Stiles twirls his fork on the plate, pawing at the chicken that lay there.

“Nervous? You can’t be nervous about running away?” Derek cannot help but let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his stout.

“Oh, no. I am not nervous about this, I will never doubt this. I am- Are we going to get married?” Stiles looks up to Derek's face. 

Derek sets his glass down on the table and looks down to Stiles. “I had thought that was the whole point of this adventure?”

“Well, I know I had always talked of us marrying, but that was when we were not on the run and I do not know if the circumstance changes your feelings on the subject or even if you  _ wanted _ to marry me in the first place. Not to mention we will be sharing a bed tonight for the first time and I am  _ nervous  _ because I had always been taught you do not share a bed unless you are married to whom you are sharing a bed with and-”

Derek pulls Stiles chin up with his hand, pecking a kiss on his lips in hopes of stopping his ramblings. It had always worked in the past. 

“Stiles,” Derek says as a whisper, “I will marry you. I have always wanted to marry you. The only thing that has ever made me doubt our marriage was your, um, temporary engagement,” Derek and Stiles both let out small laughs between them, as they are just starting to see the humor in the situation. “You have no need to be nervous anymore. We are together,” Derek kisses Stiles again, even letting the kiss grow deeper than it has the entire trip, reminding them of the months and years leading them to this moment. 

“Let’s go,” Stiles says, pulling apart the kiss. “The church must still be open, and if it is not I will not rest until a priest declares us married.” Derek gets up from where he is sitting, and helps Stiles slide out of his spot too. They pay for their meals and ask where the nearest church is. The barkeep gives them directions and soon they are walking down the street. Derek holds Stiles tightly against his side as they make their way through the streets just as the barkeep told them. 

The church they find is open, and Stiles can hardly contain his joy when they find the priest in his office just as directed. 

“Hello,” Derek says. The priest looks up at the two men and smiles. 

“Hello, I do not think I have seen you two around, I am Deaton. How can I help you gentlemen?”

“We would like to be married,” Stiles exclaims as he bounces on his toes. 

“Please,” Derek finishes. 

“Are you both of age?”

“He’s twenty,” Stiles points to Derek with his thumb, “and I just turned 18.”

“We have been together since childhood,” Derek informs.

“Alright, sounds good to me,” Deaton stands from his place behind his desk. “Follow me,” they exit the small office and out into the main hall of the church. There are a few people sitting in the pews, praying on their own. Stiles has envisioned his wedding day so many times growing up. Derek was always by his side, no matter what. The venue isn’t what he imagined, neither the decorations. Regrettably, Scott was not here either. However, even as so much was different, the details never seemed to matter, so long as Derek was there. 

And today, Stiles’ dream comes true. 

Of course there is a pang of sadness, his mother is not here, and his father has not given his permission to Derek as Stiles would have liked, but that seems like such a minor thing now considering the situation. 

Deaton clears his throat, startling a few of the perisionsers in the church. 

“We are gathered here today-” Deaton continues his speech, the strangers in the pews acting as their witnesses even though they do not seem to be paying much attention to the procession in front of them. They repeat the vows to each other. Stiles has butterflies in his stomach the entire time. None of the practitioners in the church clap when Deaton announces them married, but the kiss they take to seal the marriage fees like Stiles is finally taking a breath and starting a new life, a new life with his husband. 

Deaton sends them off with a salutation of good luck, and they exit the church a married couple just moments after being engaged and nearly 13 years after they met and 10 years of being in love. They walk back to the inn, Stiles wrapped around Derek’s arm, not willing to spare even a moment away from him. 

Their room at the inn is small, but there is a bed, and that bed is a sight for sore eyes. Stiles goes to lay on it, falling into the soft cradle of an overused mattress. 

Stiles does not hear Derek moving around the room as he expected, so he looks up to see Derek standing there. He’s staring at Stiles, a small smile on his face. His beard is growing out, it is a shadow on his face but it grows thicker daily, and makes it hard to see the smile, but Stiles can tell it is there. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Stiles reaches up to touch his face. 

“No,” he smiles bigger, revealing his teeth that Stiles always looked like bunny teeth. “We are married. And for as long as I can remember, that seemed inevitable, but then-” he pauses and they both know he speaks of the betrothal, he moves and sits on the bed next to Stiles, taking his hands into his own, “-and I thought I lost you. Even as you plotted this escape, I was afraid you would change your mind, or your father would accelerate his plan. But we’re here now, far from the reach of your father, married, and sharing a bed for the first time.”

“It is quite an adventure we are on,” Stiles says, Derek closes in and pecks a kiss to Stiles lips, Stiles does the same. He grips Derek’s shirt and pulls him down as he lays back on the bed. 

Kissing is not something they are new to. Stiles and Derek had been kissing, sometimes quite passionately since they were in the change between child and teen in the stalls of the stable and at the lake. On more than one occasion, Stiles had felt Derek’s member through his pants and his own slick wetting the insides of his thighs. However, due to Stiles being an omega, and the son of a lord, they had agreed to keep Stiles’ virginity intact.

The weight of Derek on top of Stiles feels so good and the longer the kiss went on, the deeper it got as well. With soft moans and smiles breaking the rhythm every few seconds. It is no surprise when Stiles begins to feel Derek’s member against his thigh where he has been straddling, Stiles can feel his own member swell with blood and his slick begin to wet his backside and thighs. 

When they were young, they had agreed to wait to consummate their love, the anticipation had time to grow. Stiles finds himself a bit apprehensive now that he is actually at a place in his life that this can, and will, happen. 

“Der,” Stiles says, pulling apart the kiss, which grants Derek permission to move from his lips to his neck, where he sucks lightly. The attention to his neck sends surges of pleasure down his spine and Stiles wants nothing more than to let Derek continue but he cannot. “Der,” he repeats, putting a hand between them signalling Derek to stop. He does.

“Stiles, what is wrong?” Derek asks, seeing the anxiety in his face. 

“I am  _ nervous _ ,” Stiles admits. “I have never done this before, as you know. What if I am no good?”

“How should I know if you are good or not?” Derek asks, “Have you forgotten that I have not done this before either?” He lets out a little laugh, and his face is so sincere. 

“You mean you did not find someone to-” Stiles ends his sentence hoping Derek understands his meaning. Stiles has spent many months of the year away at school. They could not send letters at all, and the little information Stiles did get about Derek was from Scott, it had seemed obvious that Derek would find companionship with another while he was away.

“My Stiles. I have been committed to you before I knew what commitment truly was. How could you think I would seek out affection from another when I had you?” Stiles sees Derek’s eyes romaning his face, as though he is trying to see as much of it as he can. Stiles is tickled by the admission by Derek.

Stiles can feel his face heat up, “you are making me blush husband.”

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” Derek says a manicale smile on his face. Derek leans down once more, to recapture his husband’s lips. “But,” he stops after a peck, “should you feel you are not ready still, we can wait until you feel comfortable. I have no qualms waiting for you. I have done it since our tween changes, I will wait 100 years more.”

“Oh. We will not wait that long,” Stiles says pulling Derek back into his space. Stiles uses his might to push Derek, over onto the bed and swings himself up so now he is straddling Derek’s hips. 

The two continue to kiss, Derek’s hands roaming over Stiles’ back and eventually down to squeeze his ass. The attention makes more slick seep out, and causes Stiles to moan and gasp. 

“Take off these cumbersome clothes so I can see my husband naked,” Stiles says trying to get Derek’s shirt off. Derek’s hands find the hem of Stiles’ shirt and lift it up and over his head. Derek is strong enough that he can wrap a hand around Stiles’ waist and stand to plant Stiles back on the bed as they had started. He quickly removes his own shirt and Stiles cannot help but stare.

This is certainly not the first time they had seen each other shirtless. They had spent many days of many summers at the creek that runs through the estate to the lake. They would ride there and spend all day splashing in the water, and more often than not, necking in the water with Stiles legs wrapped around Derek’s waist. 

Now, however, it seems like so much more. They are married, they are about to have sex for the first time. Derek’s rippling muscles are reminiscent of an alpha, and sends Stiles’ omega brain into an instinctual bliss. He starts trying to toe off his boots, and shimmy out of his pants. Derek works his own belt open and shoves his pants down. 

Soon, Stiles is free of his pants, revealing his small omega cock and a mess of slick between his thighs. Derek immediately follows suit, revealing his own dick. 

“Why- how is yours so much bigger than mine?” Stiles asks, just kind of looking at it. Stiles wants to examine it, and compare. 

“That is the biology, you know this,” Derek answers, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. 

“Well yeah, theoretically. At school they told us there is a size difference, but I- I did not think it was this  _ much _ of a size difference,” Stiles lays on the bed.

“Do you- want to stop?” Derek asks tentatively.

“What? No! I’m just surprised is all,” Stiles says, putting one hand out to bring Derek back in. 

They both lay on the bed, Stiles caged in underneath Derek. They continue kissing, Stiles allows his hand to roam Derek’s body, his back, his shoulders, his abs, his ass, all formed over years of hard work in the stable and his family’s farm. His skin it patched many different colors from working in the sun. Parts of his arms are darker than others, and his ass is almost as pale as Stiles having never seen the sun.

Derek feels Stiles’ own body, soft with omega curves and coated with a thin layer of fat that comes with growing up in an estate as well off as the Stilinski’s. He’s still lithe, but there is no definition of muscle anywhere on his body, just endless pale, soft skin dotted with moles that make Derek want to map them out with his tongue. 

Derek lets his hand roam to where he knows Stiles is wet. He had talked to his sister before leaving, asked her the best way to pleasure an omega. She gave him plenty of advice. He fingers Stiles’ flaps open, gently testing to see how ready Stiles is. 

Stiles can feel the callus on Derek’s fingers test his opening, the rough skin against his own sensitivity is enough to make a squirt of slick come out, causing Derek to smile with triumph. 

“Ready?” Derek asks, knowing his own stamina is reaching its limits. 

Stiles only nods, his eyes looking straight into Derek’s. Slowly, Derek lowers himself to line up with Stiles. He can feel the tip of his dick get wet with Stiles’ slick, Stiles shudders on the mattress. Derek presses a little more, allowing Stiles’ natural bodily function to do it’s work. Stiles flinches and lets out a small hiss, Derek immediately stops and looks to Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asks.

Stiles nods, “yes. Keep going.”

Derek presses a little more, finally being halfway in. The tension in Stiles’ shoulder disappears, his face relaxing from where it was a few moments ago. Derek takes that as a sign to finish inserting himself. 

“Oh my,” Stiles says just as the last few inches enter him, “that’s big, wow.” Derek waits a moment, allowing Stiles to adjust himself if his needs. 

“I am- going to move now,” Derek warns.

Underneath him, Stiles nods repeatedly, and lets out a breathy, “yes, yes, move.” 

Derek starts to pull himself out, Stiles throws his head back onto the pillow and moans softly. Thrusting in, Derek allows himself to find pleasure in the heat of Stiles’ opening. The tightness surrounding his dick makes his need to speed up grow. Derek does not know what to do with his hands. He does not want to squish Stiles by lowering himself to the bed, and he feels like supporting his weight on his arms keeps him farther away from Stiles than he would like. 

He decides to try his elbows. Slowly, he bends one arm and gets it placed on the bed, bucking his hips slightly as he does. Beneath him, he can feel Stiles searching for more, his own hips trying match the slow rhythm of Derek’s hips. Derek prepares to lower his other arm, he is almost down when Stiles suddenly jerks up and they bump their heads together. 

“Ow,” Stiles says, bringing his hand up to his forehead. Derek immediately freezes. Then Stiles lets out a laugh, and looks at Derek. “Oops,” Stiles says, bringing his hand to Derek’s forehead where they bumped each other. “You okay?” the small smile on his face is adorable and makes the blush on his cheeks and chest brighter. A small laugh escapes with the question. 

“Yeah, are you?” Derek asks ,a smile on his face relieved that they can find the humor in this situation. Stiles just nods and starts moving his hips again in a tiny motion that makes Derek react by continuing. 

“Yes, let’s- just-” Stiles lets out a moan, closing his eyes and gripping Derek’s back. His mouth is right next to Derek’s ear, and he can hear all the small nuances in his moans, gasps, and breaths. 

Slowly, Derek speeds up, but it does not take long before he can see the edges of his vision grow white with orgasm. Beneath him, Stiles’ mouth lays open, gawking at the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut. 

Derek comes first, coming with a groan from deep within his throat in a tone he did not know he was capable. He stills as his own fluids shoot into Stiles, who is still trying to keep the friction going, moving himself as much as he can from his position on the bed. 

“Der-” his voice is breathy and soft, Derek barely heard it through his post orgasm haze. “Derek, keep- keep going- I- I-,” Derek catches what Stiles says and thrusts a few times more before Stiles lets out his own orgasmic moan. Hearing it, another wave of Derek’s spunk serves into Stiles. 

Stiles' face contorts into one that looks like pain, but he is moaning and breathing heavy and soon he opens his eyes to look up at Derek. Derek is there, holding himself up despite his want to fall flat on Stiles and keep him there for ever. 

They both breathe heavily, staring at each other. 

Stiles is the first to break into a smile, Derek follows suit and leans down to kiss Stiles on the lips before pulling himself out of Stiles and taking the empty spot on the bed. 

“That was-” Derek says as Stiels curls into his side, placing a hand on Derek’s bare chest, and Derek wrapping his arm over Stiles’ shoulder.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, curling as tightly into Derek’s space as he could. 

They lay there in the quiet, Derek begins to fall asleep. 

“I thought it would last longer,’ Stiles says, his voice telling just how close he is to sleep himself. 

“We have a lifetime to get better at this,” Derek says, kissing the top of Stiles’ head and rubs his hand on his husband’s arm. 

* * *

Stiles and Derek arrive in Beacon Hills 10 days after they left the Stilinski Estate. The delay in their trip was due to the slower speed at which they traveled, Stiles' constant need to, quite literally, stop and smell the flowers, and their need to find all the best shady spots to stop, lounge, and keep practicing.

The entire town is picturesque. There are large, soft rolling hills with houses and farms nestled between them. Through town, people greeted Derek by name, as though he had been a member of their community his entire life. 

Easily, Derek introduces Stiles as his husband, as naturally as anything in the world. Stiles, from his place tucked under Derek’s arm, is happy to shake the hands of his new neighbors. 

Stiles is amazed to see the land that Derek bought when they finally blow into town. The land Derek takes Stiles to is gorgeous.They release Roscoe and Camaro out into the pasture to graze their happy lives away. All is well for the first time in a very long time. 

Slowly, they find a routine. Derek finds work as a farmhand for their neighbor Finnstock, a brash man who yells and whistles loudly with only his lip. His son, Greenberg, is a beta about Stiles’ age. He and Derek make fast friends, having both grown up on farms. 

They never mention Stiles’ father, or the life he left behind. The thought of his father only soured his mood. Stiles would rather forget he ever lived that life.

Stiles minds the chickens, and quickly finds joy in the chores of menial housework. For so long, he had been held in his father’s estate, made to not change anything for it was not his, rather his father’s. Now, this house, this  _ tiny _ house, is his. It is his and he can do with it as he pleases. 

Their new little life is small, simple, and everything Stiles had ever dreamed up, maybe even a little bit more so. It felt easy, almost natural, to let his previous life fade into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: Melissa tells John Scott knows about his paternity. John confronts Scott about his new place in the household, which causes Scott to lash out about John's past treatment of Stiles. Derek and Stiles are making their way to Beacon Hills, the town they are going to live in, they get married, and have awkward virgin sex. 
> 
> Warnings: Loss of Virginity, Awkward Virgin Sex, Getting Married, 
> 
> Character introductions: Deaton (but only in this chapter and very brief)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months pass, Stiles still hasn't been found and Scott's role as the new alpha heir is under advisement by John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, sorry this took so long. I got caught up in a writing even during July and it was a lot of fun but took a lot of time and energy out of me. 
> 
> Anyway, here is the next chapter. Its a bit short, but the next chapter is nice n' long i promise. :)  
> Enjoy!

“You damn fool!” Johnathan’s hand comes down hard on Scott’s cheek. “Tell me where my son is! My men have searched the entire town and there is no trace of him,” another hit burns as his strikes across Scott’s face. The men holding Scott seem to know what the lord is doing is uncouth, but they have no authority to do or say anything. They are in his offices, and from the door, Scott can hear his mother screaming to be allowed into the room. There is no doubt more guards keeping her from doing just that. “You surely do not believe that I believe you do not know where Mieczysław went?”

Scott coughs, spitting out a bit of blood in the direction of the man who claims to be a benevolent lord of this land. “I know nothing of his plans,” the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth, and undoubtedly stains his teeth with red. 

“Tell me!” John raises his hand again, preparing to strike down once more. The door bursts open, behind them. Scott cannot help but let his head hang down, his eye already swollen shut and preventing him from seeing his aggressor. 

“John!” Scott recognizes the voice of his mother, though it is laced with a tone he is not familiar with. The guards holding Scott up drop him to the floor. Scott is too disoriented to catch himself against the hardwood. “My god John he is your  _ son. _ ” Melissa joins Scott on the floor, pulling Scott into her arms while the guards back away. 

“This  _ child _ is no more my son than the pathetic omega that ran away with lies filling his head,” Johnathan bites out. 

Melissa stands leaving Scott on the floor and walks to Johnathan. “Is that-” she begins but then looks around to see there are guards present, she drops her voice down to a whisper, “is that alcohol on your breath?” She reaches out to touch his forearm, but John immediately pulls his arm away to avoid her touch. 

“When I was young, I had a love. I had notions of marrying for love!” John starts yelling. “You were my love Mel. You. Not Claudia. Yet!” John raises his hands in the air, “yet I had to be the alpha my father and her father expected me to be and I  _ married _ her.”

Scott still lays on the floor, holding himself. Melissa looks to the guards, she is not the lady of the house, but the look she gives them tells them to leave the room. They follow her silent command and leave the room, closing the door behind them. 

“I  _ had _ to marry her! Why can he not accept that we all have to do things we do not want to do!” John yells, the door to the offices close behind the last guard. 

“Johnathan, it has been six months,” she takes the lord’s hand, “the agreement with the Martins is long over. Stiles has not been found, nor has he returned on his own volition. The likelihood of his return now is slim.” Melissa looks to Scott who is still on the floor. “We must move forward as we would have had he been married off to Lady Martin. Surely you do not believe you would act in such a manner had Sties done as you commanded.”

Johnathan looks to Melissa, a look of betrayal on his face. It does not take long for the look of anger to relax from his face, giving way to a softer look. The lord’s shoulders drop from their strong alpha stance, his head follows suit a moment later. Melissa sees the lord melt into a new emotion, and steps in to take his hands into hers. 

“He is my son Mel. I treated him so-” he looks off to the window, then down to Scott, “and now he is gone. I will never see him again, and it is all my fault.” A stray tear falls from the lord’s eyes and down his cheek. “His mother did so much for him, she fought with me until the day she died about Mieczysław’s marital arrangements. I lied to her on her deathbed, a swore Mieczysław would marry for the love we were both denied. Perhaps I believed it to be true in that moment, as her face finally relaxed and allowed herself to be taken to Heaven. 

“Then the brat came in crying louder than the day he was born. I did not know how to care for him. He was always closer to Claudia than myself I- I went back on that promise less than a minute after I made it.”

Scott manages to stand himself up, looking between Johnathan and his mother. 

“Then Scott,” the lord starts again. “I could not be the father he deserved. Our love,” he looks at Melissa, tears falling down both their faces, “was forbidden and my son was forced to live in the shadows. Now both my sons would rather be anywhere, with anyone other than me.

“I am a failure on all accounts of my family. My estate is in ruins and I have no way to fix it.”

The three of them remain in the room, quiet. Scott and Melissa unknowing of what to do or say to console the lord. 

Stiles walks around the house. It does not take very long to get from the bedroom to the kitchen. But as the days pass and his belly grows heavier, it becomes an increasingly arduous task. The small stove is lit, warming the house as much as it can. Derek comes through the door, holding a rabbit he has just shot. 

“Good morning my love,” Derek puts the rabbit down and envelops Stiles as he stands at the sink, washing the plates Derek left before he went to work the land. 

“Good morning,” Stiles repeats, looking up to Derek over his shoulder and welcoming the kiss. Derek’s hands quickly move down to where their child grows safely inside of his mate. 

“How are you feeling today?” Derek asks. 

“I am so tired, my feet hurt,” Stiles complains softly, becoming flushed as Derek presses against his back. A small ache developing just at the base where their child kicks softly. “How can it be possible I survive four more months of this?”

Derek lets out a small laugh and kisses down Stiles’ neck. It is no secret the news of their pregnancy came as a shock to the couple. Having been told that a beta impregnating an omega was rare, though coming to find from the local doctor that was not biologically correct. However shocking the news was, it was not unwelcomed.

Stiles found it ironic that the rumor of his pregnancy led to his freedom, and now a true pregnancy leads to his happiness. Derek proves to be just as excited about the news as Stiles. 

“Hm, I’m sorry. I should have told you Hales breed large babes,” Derek continues kissing down Stiles neck, shoving his nose into the scent gland that is releasing the most intoxicating scent. 

“I will bear one hundred children, so long as they are yours,” Stiles reaches behind him and laces his fingers through Derek’s hair. It has grown out slightly since they arrived, Stiles quite likes it.

Behind him, Stiles can feel Derek’s cock straight up in the crack of his ass, he immediately feels himself grow wet between the legs. 

“Der-” Stiles gasps. It is not a moment later when Stiles is lifted from his place in the kitchen and deposited in the bed a few paces away. Derek kisses up Stiles’ neck. Stiles cannot believe he is so lucky. It was a long battle to get here, but Stiles would not be anywhere but here with Derek. 

Scott sits on a stool in the kitchen, his mother tenderly wipes away the blood from a few cuts on his face. They do not speak, and then the air between them is tense. 

“Do you really not know where Stiles is?” Melissa finally asks. 

“No,” Scott admits. “He left all of us that day.”

“Your father is just trying to do-”

“He is not my father.”

“John,” she corrects, “is just trying to do what is best for you and for Stiles.”

“And he does that by bashing in my face every time he dains to miss Stiles?”

“Johnathan is a complicated man-”

“Stop making excuses for him mom. Lord Stilinski is a bad man, who treated Stiles like he was less than himself. He keeps saying I will take over his estate like Stiles is no longer a concern of his.”

“Scott-” 

“No mom, I am tired of this,” Scott stands up, the last of the blood gone from his face. “I’m going to see Kira.”

“That girl from town?”

“Yes,” Scott stands and exits the kitchen. 

The walk to town helps Scott clear his head. The past six months have been hard on the estate. Even the other staff seems to be missing Stiles. The few shops in town know Scott works in the estate, and  _ they _ even ask what is happening with Stiles. Scott tells them as much as he can, which is nothing. 

Kira’s family moved to town a few years ago. They own a small herb shop and her mother makes medicine. They met when Melissa asked them to deliver some ointment to cover a large cut John left on Scott’s back after throwing a glass bottle at him. Scott immediately felt connected to the omega, in a way that he never thought he would feel. It shortly after their love sprouted. Scott has even shared a heat with her, a heat he triggered. 

“Hi,” Scott says as he enters the small shop, Kira sits behind the counter. 

“Hi,” Kira’s face lights up, as she sees Scott enter. Scott moves to the counter, and brings his hands up brings her into a hug. 

“What happened?” She gets distracted by the fresh.

“Lord Stilinski’s hand is a heavy one,” he replies, she immediately sits him down on a stool and begins to pull out one of her remedies, spreading the pink goo on the small cuts. It is quiet between them for a moment, as she tends to his wounds. 

“Have you heard from Stiles?” she asks. They’ve been meeting for nearly the same amount of time as Stiles has been gone. Scott quickly found a friend in her and told her as much as he could. Their friendship grew into something more, a love.

“No. I doubt I will ever hear from him again,” Scott admits. In the weeks after Stiles and Derek’s escape, Scott had hoped,  _ wished _ , that Stiles would send a message. It would not even contain his location, just the fact that he was safe and happy. 

“I’m sorry Scott,” Kira says just as she finished with her goo. She then reaches down and places a kiss on Scott’s lips. “We’ll hear from him eventually, all we can do is hope.”

“I suppose,” Scott accepts the kiss. Just as they part, Kira’s mother exits the back room. 

“Hello Mr. McCall,” she greets. 

“Mrs. Yukimara,” Scott offers her a small bow. “Would you mind if I took Kira out for the afternoon? I promise to have her back by nightfall.”

Mrs. Yukimara feins a moment of contemplation, though Kira seems to be invested in the drama and worries her mother may not let her leave. Her face breaks into a smile, “of course Mr. McCall.”

Kira’s face lights up and Scott smiles as well. 

“We will be back in a matter of hours,” the two leave the shop and walk down the street. The streets are crowded, like they always are. Town has been a bit hectic lately, Lord Stilinski choosing to care for his own personal matters rather than care for the town. Scott gets a few stars as they walk from vendor to vendor looking at the produce and other goods available. 

“Do you think they’re happy?” Kira asks, her and Scott’s arms linked together. 

“I have no doubt they are,” there were still secrets he had not told Kira. Mostly to maintain the rumors of the situation so Lord Stilinski would not become suspicious of the real situation. One of the secrets he has maintained is the identity of whom Stiles ran away with. Should Lord Stilinski find out, the Hale family will surely be out of service of the Lord, but their land is also leased by the lord. The last thing Scott wants is their farm being taken away. “They were happy here, I know they can be happy anywhere.”

“Do you think he, his alpha, and their baby are well?” Kira asks, an earnest question and one that makes Scott’s heart hurt. 

“There is no baby,” Scott says, it is the truth but he continues with the lie. “Lord Stilinski gave him a tea to terminate the pregnancy. I doubt the child made it.” They walk a few more paces, collecting various items from the carts, Kira putting them in a basket to her side. 

“Let’s go, I think we have enough,” Kira announces as she puts a loaf of bread into the basket. They venture out of town, to one of the rural areas where a large tree grows. They sit on the grass and eat the fruits and bread they just bought, talking idly through the afternoon. They take a moment to kiss, and continue to talk.

The sun begins to dip in the sky. A few lights flicker on in town. Scott feels his nerves grow in his belly. He has an ulterior motive for the afternoon’s activities and he feels the time has finally come. Kira is standing, shaking off some loose grass from her skirt. She offers Scott a hand to help him up from where he remains on the ground. 

“Kira,” Scott says, not taking the hand, simply looking up to Kira. “Stiles loved one person his entire life. He sacrificed everything for his love. I grew up only dreaming to find someone as special,” her face is twisted in confusion. Scott manages to get to his knee, “to be quite honest, I never thought I would find it. Yet, I met you,” he clumsily gathers her hands in his. The early evening light causes her eyes to shift between their natural dark brown and something lighter. He wants to savor this moment, “Marry me Kira.” Scott kisses the top of her hand.

“Oh Scott!” Kira says leaning down to kiss Scott’s lips. “Yes! I’ll marry you!” She kisses him again, this time pushing back, causing Scott and herself to fall to the ground where they were moments ago. The two stay out a little past sundown, though when Kira announces to her mother exactly why they are late, her mother quickly forgives them and offers a bit of mead to celebrate. 

Scott returns to the estate after dark. The moon is high in the air and Scott wonders if Stiles can see the moon where he is. The question seems obvious, but Scott cannot help but hope Stiles has everything he has ever wanted. He enters the staff quarters to his mother sitting at the kitchen workbench. 

“Where have you been?” She barks, standing and moving closer to examine him. 

“With Kira,” he answers, though he can see his mother does not quite believe him. “You can ask her or her mother, should you need to confirm my alibi.”

“You were not with Stiles?”

“Mom, I do not know where Stiles is,” his answer is honest, as it is every time, though no one seems to believe him. “Though I do have some news that pertains to myself should you care enough about your blood son to ask.”

Melissa bites her thumb nail contemplating something Scott wishes he could decipher. “Hmm? What news?”

“I am going to marry Kira. I asked her this evening,” Scott has no proof of the engagement, rings and other such tokens are for those who have the wealth, which Scott does not. 

“What?” Melissa drops her hands and looks to her son. 

“Kira and I are getting married!” he announces with more enthusiasm, as though he himself is just realizing the scope of the announcement. 

“Oh Scott!” Melissa exclaims, standing to hug her son and congratulate him. “How exciting!”

The two spend the next few moments talking about potential wedding ideas, and dreaming of the day to come within the next few weeks. 

Lord Stilinski sees the wedding as another thing altogether. When Scott tells the Lord, a maniacal look spreads on his face and Scott can tell that the Lord has a motive not clear to Scott. 

“This is truly excellent news,” the lord says when Scott tells him in his offices. “We will plan the wedding, and announce your taking over of the estate now that that omega is gone. We can finally announce you as my rightful alpha heir.”

“I am not your heir, Lord Stilinski,” Scott snips out. 

“We shall see about that,” an evil grin forms on his face, Scott wishes he never saw it. “We will announce it to all the surrounding towns. Word will spread fast that the Lord has an alpha son who is getting married. Surely the news of brotherhood will bring that sniffling little toad back, if not then the news of the wedding will. It will be early in the coming year, February. An early spring wedding.”

Scott can feel his gut sinking, he did not think about how this would affect Stiles. Ever since boyhood they imagined being there when the other married. Now that did not seem possible. Scott feels a pang of guilt that his own selfishness could get Stiles caught. 

Stiles hears the news while he and Derek are in town. The fruit carts are out in the sun, and the walking is helping the small cramps that strike his back occasionally. Stiles wears a cape, as the air has grown cold with winter, but also to conceal his identity. No one has guessed his true parentage, but it is best to be safe. The town crier comes through ringing his bell. 

“Lord Stilinski’s alpha son to get married early next year! His secret heir announced to be taking over the estate since the loss of his omega son!” The crier tells of other news, but Stiles looks to Derek. They finish their walk with a basket of fresh fruit. Just as they were on their way up the path to their farm Stiles begins. 

“Alpha heir? My father does  _ not _ have an alpha heir? And a wedding? Does he think that will make me return?” Stiles can feel himself getting angry, but there are also tears at the edge of his eyes. Stiles can feel his legs giving out under him. He places his hands protectively over his belly, his chest rising and falling in the same manner it had when his mother died. His vision becomes blurry and he cannot breathe. 

Derek holds onto his mate, slowly helping him lower to the floor so as to not harm himself or the baby. 

“Stiles-”

“I could not get the estate but a bastard child can?!” Stiles cries out, feeling betrayed. “I never wanted his stupid money but this-” he is rendered speecheless, heavy sobs falling as he tries to take in the air around him. 

“Sti, breath,” Above him, Derek breathes in and out at a steady pace. Stiles tries grabbing at Derek’s shirt, tries grabbing at anything that will keep him anchored to the ground. 

Slowly, Stiles finds his breathing pattern. Derek continues to breath in, count to five, out, count to five. “We will figure this out,” Derek promises, placing a kiss onto Stiles’ forehead and stroking the tears from his cheek. “We will figure this out,” he repeats, still holding Stiles from their spot on the ground just a few yards from their house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Please leave a comment if you did! I really appreciate comments, they keep me motivated to get this out faster, and with a month left before September, i hope to get it done. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr!](http://ladiekatie.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek returns to find out who Lord Stilinski's new heir is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading as always! I'm gearing up to go back to school in a couple week so I'm really trying to get through this quickly, because I know as soon as school starts finding time to do anything fun is going to be rough. 
> 
> It was so great reading your comments on the last chapter! I didn't expect so many people to be so upset with John! I knew he was an asshole, but damn y'all really hate him! I think that's what is tricky about ending this sucker, I don't know what to do with John and Melissa, but knowing we're all on the same page of "not good things please" I can start thinking about it a little bit more. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The town crier brings the news of the exact date of the wedding in the following months. During which Stiles’ belly continues to grow arduously. Stiles himself is still amazed he can stand, though now with a little help from Derek and not without moments of imbalance as the little one shifts his center of gravity. 

Derek volunteers to go to the wedding, knowing Stiles cannot show his face in that town again. He, on the other hand, can make the excuse of leaving for work, and hearing of the news was curious who would be taking over the estate since the crier never seemed to get the name of Lord Stilinski’s alpha heir. 

Their farm is finally starting to turn a small profit. Derek goes and works the land, spending every moment he can outside checking on the few crops they’ve managed to grow and the chickens which had been a gift from the town after Stiles began showing his pregnancy. Stiles roams his hands over his belly. He cannot believe how content he is with this new life. The argument of Stiles not being able to adapt to a new lifestyle after growing up the son of a lord having been proved wrong again and again. 

Though there are things Stiles  _ does _ miss about the estate. He rarely has the energy to go to town anymore, mostly due to the pregnancy, and being cooped up in the small house made him anxious, missing the large hallways and multiple rooms he would roam when he was feeling stifled. 

He misses the courtyard, where a swing hung from the old oak tree for as long as Stiles can remember. The Lord, in one of his more tender moments, once told Stiles that he had swung on that swing as a child. Though that memory is at the edges of his earliest childhood memories, when his father had been the most caring, before mother died. 

The baby kicks his insides, and he needs to get to the out house before he pees himself again. He sets the plate down in the sink basic, and makes his way to the door to venture to the outhouse. Stiles supposes he misses the indoor plumbing the most.

The ride to Lord Stilinsk’s takes seven days of hard riding, and two days for the wedding festivities, and seven days back means that Derek will be gone for more than a fortnight, which leaves a pang of grief in Stiles’ heart. They had agreed to the trip, Stiles needing the closure that he never truly mattered to his father, but also wanting to know who his brother is. He knows his mother never gave him another heir, therefore the child must have been born out of wedlock. Stiles hates the idea of his father having an affair with someone else, though it would have been easy: they did not share bed quarters. 

Still, 16 days on his own this close to the baby’s arrival is scary. Greenberg offered to come check on him once a day and to do the daily tasks in the farm Stiles should not be doing this far in his pregnancy, which Stiles thought was very sweet of him. Their friendship had waned since Derek started working his own farm, but they had been known to go over and visit with Finstock and Greenberg when they fancied a drink and friendly company.

Stiles sits in the outhouse, relieving himself, though it is a short, weak stream. 

“Oh come on baby,” Stiles rubs his belly, begging his child to settle a moment so he can finish his business and return to the house. 

Derek rides hard to the Stilinski land. Camaro has not seen this much exercise in the time since they ran away, but he is a good horse and gets Derek there just on time. The town is decorated for a wedding. White flowers line the shop doors, and everything looks cleaner. One shop in particular looks decorated like the building itself was getting married. 

The Hale farm is exactly how he left it. His cousins still run around the front yard, all in a different state of undress. Cora sees him from her spot on the front porch.

“Derek!” She exclaims, launching herself off of the porch, skipping the steps all together, then running to bring him into an embrace. Derek did not notice how much he truly missed her until he has her in his arms. “Where have you been? Mom and Dad went crazy when you left and didn’t come back.” Derek pushes Cora back when he feels a protrusion under her apron, looking now there is a slight swell there. One reminiscent of a few months after Stiles and he married. 

“What is this?” Derek asks looking from his little sisters small, pregnant belly. 

“Oh! I got married,” she tenderly strokes down her front, revealing the bump under the layers of clothing.

“Married?” Derek asks, with his eyebrows raised. Just as Cora begins to answer, the door on the front of the house swings open. Exits a tall man Derek has never seen before. He has curly, blond hair, and is easily taller than Derek by a few inches, Derek scents the alpha on him immediately. 

“Hey Cor, who is this?” He looks at Derek suspiciously, Derek cannot help but return the glance. 

“Isaac, this is my brother Derek. The one who left town a few months back,” Cora puts her arms out, and Isaac falls into place by her side so easily. “Derek, this is my husband Isaac.” Both men put their hand out and shake. “Are you back Derek? Where have you been?” Cora asks once the men break their handshake. 

“Oh, I left for work,” Derek answers. At this point, he really does not want to lie to his sister, instead he wants to tell her about his own pregnant mate at home, but he has to keep up the rouse or Stiles’ attempt at escape will be just that, an attempt. 

“You know, it’s really weird that you  _ and _ the Lord’s son disappeared around the same time,” Cora’s eyebrows grow into an inquisitive shape, Isaac looking between the two lost. 

“Stiles isn’t here? That is unfortunate,” Derek answers, “I was hoping to see him.” 

“You knew Omega Stilinski?” Isaac asks. 

“Our family serves as their stablemen, we have for many years. My father worked there, I grew up with him and his houseboy named Scott.”

“Scott? Like Scott Stilinski? A houseboy? I can hardly imagine,” Isaac says with a scoff. 

“What? Scott, uh like Scott McCall? He’s the son of Stiles’ nursemaid,” Derek says, though the look of confusion grows on Cora’s and Isaac’s face, and he supposes should he have had a mirror he could see the same expression on his. 

“Scott was announced to be the Lord’s rightful alpha heir months ago, when he announced his marriage to a girl in town,” Cora clarifies. 

“Scott is marrying a girl from town?” Derek asks, his stomach sinking with despair the longer he stands here listening to his sister. 

“Oh yes. Kira, the daughter of the apothecary. They have been no subtlety sneaking around town for the past few months, sneaking kisses in the market. It’s adorable really,” Cora says looking up to Isaac. 

“That hardly makes sense Cora,” Derek tries to wrap his head around the news, but something is off, this does not make sense. Scott is not Lord Stilinski’s son, and Lord Stilinski would not let his omega heir marry for love, much less an alpha son. “I have to go,” Derek stammers, backing out of the space in front of Cora and Isaac.

“Where are you going? You only just got here,” She reaches out for him, but Derek has his back turned before she can convince him to come back. Derek lifts himself onto Camaro’s back and set him on the small path to the estate. 

Scott paces in his rooms, or rather Stiles’ rooms. Shortly after Lord Stilinski made the announcement that Scott was his true alpha heir, he forced Scott to move into the rooms that once held Stiles. There were long stretches of his childhood that he was envious of Stiles and his rooms. Each of which was filled with toys and treasures that helped them fill the days before he started school. To be honest, some of Scott’s most cherished memories are in this room. 

Now though, with the absence of Stiles, the rooms feels like nothing but an empty vase: a vessel of something long gone.

There is a knock on the door from behind him. Scott turns just in time to see his mother enter the room. Even she is different now. Her clothes an obvious symbol of her ascent into the Lord’s estate. Long gone are the dresses he had seen her wear since he was a child. She looks like a proper lady, though foreign to his eyes. They have not made their union official, though Scott doubts Lord Stilinski will, the people still love and mourn Lady Stilinski too fiercely even nearly 10 years after her passing. 

“Scott?” his mother calls out to him. 

Scott nods his head in greeting but turns away and instead focuses on the windows, this particular one was Stiles’ favorite. It has a bench that he would often curl up with a book on, or take naps in the summer sun. The seat also had a perfect view of the stables just past the courtyard. 

“Scott,” Melissa calls again, this time closer as though she is right behind him. “Your father wants to speak with you.” 

“That man is  _ not _ my father,” Scott turns to face his mother. 

“Regardless of how you feel about him, the fact remains that since Stiles disappeared, you are now his sole heir. He needs to speak to you.” Her face offers an expression of pleading. Scott cannot forget how easily he slipped into the role that for so many years Stiles filled. No matter how many days he spends being the Lord’s son, he can never get used to the way people in town bow to him now, and how even Kira’s parents began treating him differently. He hates it. 

Scott can see why Stiles always claimed to be so stiled, and why he sought comfort in the stables, away from these rooms, from this so called life. 

“He is waiting in his offices.”

“And if he strikes me? I should not appear at my wedding with cuts on my face,” Scott replies. In the past months, the Lord’s hand had lightened, though the threat is always looming and has been used to keep Scott in his place. 

“He will not harm you. I assured he would not so close to the wedding. Please Scott,” Melissa pleads. 

Scott stares at his mother, ever since it was revealed his true parentage, she has acted in a manner unrecognizable towards Scott. Before Stiles left, she would have never pleaded for Scott to do something he did not want to do. 

“How can you love him?” Scott finally asks, the question had been burning his tounge since he learned that he was not only an accident between master and servant but rather a child bore of love. 

“Scott,” his mother sighs. He does not accept it as an answer. 

“Tell me mom. His is a cruel man. He was cruel to Stiles, he was cruel to Lady Stilinski. He has been cruel to me, the man the town knows to be Lord is a lie. Yet you still love him. Why mom?”

“We were young Scott, young love- it does not go away. Your fa-John loved me, he  _ loves _ me. Believe it or not, he loves you, and he loves Stiles and Claudia. He just- being an alpha he- expressing it is hard sometimes. He would not be throwing this whole wedding if he did not love you and was not proud that you are getting married, and for love! Something he only wished he could have done.”

“Then why deny Stiles the same privilege? Why allow me to marry Kira for love but barter Stiles like a chip at a poker table?”

“That is a question you will have to ask him,” Melissa admits. Her shoulders are slumped, like she is tired. From what, Scott cannot comprehend. Since the announcement she has not had to lift a finger. Suddenly her friends in the staff are now just staff and are at her beck and call. 

Scott turns back to the window, staring off into the distance towards the stables. There is a black stallion secured in the pen that was not there a moment ago. The stallion reminds him of the night Stiles left with Derek, Stiles was on Roscoe, and Derek was a top a black stallion named Camaro. Behind him, he can hear his mother sigh. 

“Please go to his offices. He wants to speak with you,” Melissa says once more before Scott hears the door shut. He keeps his eyes trained on the black stallion, a small flutter of hope growing in his chest at maybe,  _ maybe _ Stiles is here. 

Just as he begins to turn to exit his rooms and go to the Lord’s offices, a figure exits the stables. He is a good distance away, but he looks to be focusing on the very window Scott is standing at. His hair is longer, and his beard looks fuller, but Scott can tell, even as the months have passed that that man is Derek Hale. 

Scott turns to leave the room, his destination no longer Johnathan’s offices, but the stables. 

Scott is just out of the courtyard when he knows Derek sees him. He ducts into the stables, and Scott looks around to make sure no one can see what he is up to. If they ask, he supposes he could lie and tell them he was going for a ride, despite him not knowing how to ride. The stables are in much the same shape. Jackson is doing a very good job since Derek left. Though Scott is not afraid to admit that he missed Derek too. Stiles, Derek and he did grow up together after all. 

“Derek?” Scott calls out in a loud whisper, as if there were spies in the stables. “Derek!” he repeats a little louder this time. Scott sees where Camaro is tied, and slowly walks to the stall closest to the pen. “Derek?” Scott asks once more seeing Derek sitting on the floor. 

“Hi Scott,” Derek offers. He is barely on his feet when Scott brings him into an embrace. 

“Holy shit, I thought I would never see you again!” Scott says, Derek’s hands wrapping around his body too. “Where’s Stiles? Is he here too?” Scott looks around the stables, trying to spot Roscoe, though he does not see anything. 

“No, he stayed home.” Derek breaks the embrace, “Scott what is this business about you being the Lord’s alpha heir? We heard from the town crier that he announced someone, then I get here and find out it’s you.”

“Derek, the past 10 months have been enlightening.” Scott makes a gesture with his hand. “After you and Stiles left, my mom told me Lord Stilinski is my father. He allowed me to grow up with Stiles, which explains why I never triggered Stiles’ heat, because we were biological siblings. Then he offered me his estate. I’ve told him no, because I don’t think it’s fair that I get anything while Stiles is left with nothing.

“Then Lord Stilinski started beating me, trying to  _ persuade _ me into telling him where Stiles went even though I don’t know where you went. Then I met this girl, Kira, in town and oh Derek I cannot wait until you get to meet her! She is an omega, and she is just the most amazing person I have ever met-”

“Scott,” Derek warns. 

“Oh yes, sorry. We decided to get married and when I told Lord Stilinski about the engagement he began talking about a large wedding, something to entice Stiles to return. The announcement of an alpha heir along with a marriage for love should bring him back. Why isn’t Stiles with you? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I miss him too but Lord Stilinski would have him in a heartbeat.”

Derek looks at Scott, like he is thinking rather hard on the subject whether to tell Scott the truth or not. “He’s at home home. He is incompacitated for the moment, unable to travel.”

“What? Is he okay?!”

“He and the- the baby are doing well,” Derek says nonchalantly. 

“Baby!?” Derek gives him sharp eyes, causing them to flair beta blue. “A baby? Like a real one?” Scott asks in a quieter tone. 

“Yes, due before the end of the month,” Scott can see Derek is trying to be discreet, but there is also a beam of pride in his eyes that reflects with how he puffs out his chest.

“Oh what a happy day!”

“We married too, shortly after we left,” Derek announces. Scott looks to his hand, though he knows there will not be a ring there. 

“Oh Derek, this is good news!” Scott brings Derek in for another hug. 

“Yes, we’re- happy.” The look of contentment on Derek’s face proves how true those words are. “But I did return to learn of the truth behind the rumors. I can return to Stiles with the news you just told me. Perhaps we can return once Lord Stilinski hands the estate over to you,” Derek bows his head slightly, in a show of respect.

“I don’t want this estate. I don’t want this wedding. It’s nothing but a trick, for Stiles. I wanted nothing more than a small church wedding, with my mom and her family as witnesses. The lord has been working hard to bring Stiles back after years of pretending he didn’t exist, and this wedding, my being announced as heir, are part of his plan.” 

“We’ll come back then, when you have the estate. You will be fair to Stiles if you have the estate. We will return-”

“No Derek,” Scott lifts his hand to halt Derek from continuing. “This estate belongs to Stiles, not me. He cannot return until the estate is in his control.”

“But-”

“Lord Stilinski knows this news will draw him out, now that you know it’s me who will take over for him, Stiles is more likely to come back. You need to keep him away, the things Lord Stilinski has done to  _ me _ are unbelievable, the things he would do to Stiles upon his return are… unspeakable.” Derek looks at Scott pensively. “In fact, I don’t think you should stay for the wedding. Your identity and your role in Stiles’ escape has remained a secret, and we should keep it that way.”

Derek looks at Scott, and sees he is being earnest. “Okay,” Derek says and turns to begin untying Camaro from where he is tacked. 

“Tell- tell Stiles I love him, and tell your child all about our crazy adventures,” Scott says, his voice a little shaky. “It’s funny. The last time we said goodbye I thought for sure I would see him again, so I did not give him enough love to last never seeing him again.”

Derek mounts Camaro and looks down to Scott. Scott is 2 months older than Stiles, which accounts for why Melissa became his nursemaid. Brother and friends their entire lives. Derek knows the feeling, missing his own brothers and sisters. However, Scott was all Stiles until Derek came around.

“I will tell him,” Derek says. “Thank you Scott.” Derek sticks his hand out and down, Scott grips his forearm, they share a moment of eye contact where Derek can feel Scott's instructions to take care of Stiles. He nods, then they release each other. Derek nudges Camaro in the direction of the large doors that lead outside. 

Scott’s heart aches as he sees Derek’s form grow smaller in the distance. He would never see Stiles, his brother, again. He would never meet his tiny niece or nephew, yet he could go to sleep happy because Stiles and Derek are  _ happy _ . 

Jackson appears at the door shortly after Derek disappears down the path to town. He looks almost surprised to see Scott in the stables, “Alpha Stilinski,” he says “what- what are you doing here? Did you want to go for a ride?”

“No Jackson, I just came out for some air,” Scott lies, taking a deep breath and his nose filling with the smell of stables. “Not the freshest air,” Scott tries to create a laugh, though Jackson remains still, avoiding eye contact with him and smiling politely. This was not the case with Jackson. Normally he would make a snide comment to Scott’s observation. It serves only as a reminder of how much has changed since the announcement. He hates it. “Very well, I’m off to see the Lord.” Scott announces as he tucks his hands behind his back and tries to leave the stables unsure of what to do with himself. 

Jackson bows slightly as Scott passes. 

Lord Stilinski’s offices face southwest, and have a clear view of the path to town and slightly of the courtyard, and just past that the finest view of the stables. Normally, his back is turned away from the window, having wanted natural light to fall on the documents he was working on. He remembers when Mieczysław was a small child, he would play in that very courtyard, oblivious to the fact he was playing with his brother. Though the days of his wistfully watching his sons play have long passed, he still reminisces about those days fondly after he has had his nightly scotch. 

He stares out of the window now, a tumbler in his hand. Tomorrow Scott gets married. His men have been patrolling the town for any sign of Mieczysław, to no avail. Johnathan worries his plan will be for naught. 

On rare occasions he feels regret and guilt boil in his belly for the actions he took against his youngest son, though the boy was an omega, and he was trying to do what would be best for the boy. The arranged marriage, the lies, and the pain he caused creeps into his vision at night, only to be softened by finally having Melissa in his arms every night. Finally. 

Up the path comes a man on a horse. The man looks familiar, as most people from town do, though this gentleman seems more familiar in a more intimate way. He scours his mind trying to find who the man is to him. The man directs his stallion to the stables, and Johnathan can feel his gut twisting with unease. The man dismounts and secures his horse in the pen that extends out of the stables. He’s looking up at the estate, then he retreats into the stables.

Johnathan takes another sip of his tumbler, waiting for a knock at his door after beckoning Scott from his rooms where he has been pouting since being moved out of the staff quarters. He had hoped Scott would take the new position in stride, finally having all the things he grew up with but never having, including his father. Though the boy seemed just as stubborn as his brother, a trait that knows comes from himself. 

The knock does not come, which concerns him because Scott usually does not disobey. 

Johnathan is going to call his guard to go and check the stables to ensure the man is not a very couragous, if not idiotic theif. However before he can raise his voice, he sees Scott run into the courtyard, past the tree with the swing, and out the small gate that leads to the rest of the property. He is going towards the stables. 

His hand grows tighter on the tumbler. He watches, waits. Scott and the man are in the stables for quite some time. Then after an amount of time that Johnantahn would guess is enough to have a full conversation, the man unties his stallion, and exits the stables through the big doors that lead back down the path to town. 

There was another boy growing up, a beta, the stableman’s son, he thinks. Though Johnathan did not care to learn his house staff’s names or histories, much less remember their faces, the man stalking around his estate brings familiar flashes of baby bunny teeth and strange games of knights and princes.

Faint memories of watching Mieczysław sneak out to the stables flash back to his mind. The omega never quite understood just how much of a watchful eye Johnathan kept on him. An idea sparks in his mind. 

“Guard!” Johnathan calls. Immediately, a guard opens the door to his offices. “Yes Sir?”

“There is a man going to town on a black stallion. Follow him, everywhere he goes, even if he leaves town.  _ Especially _ if he leaves town,” It is a hunch, one that he himself is sure will pan out the truth, yet he knows. This man will lead him to Mieczysław. Johnathan takes the last sip of his scotch, the guard confirms his orders with a “yes sir.” Just as the door closes, Johnathan throws the tumblr against the wall, where it shatters to hundreds of pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Warnings: Discussions of abuse, but not super detailed.  
> Character introductions: Isaac Lahey,   
> Find me on [tumblr!](https://modestfuckup.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek makes his way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo..... I read through this chapter and was like... I don't remember where I was going with this. So we're really just gonna go with the flow. I have one more chapter written (or at least mostly written? I haven't looked at it) so it's going to be fun getting through the end of this fic.   
> School starts next week, and i know i'm going to have less time to work on this as the semester goes on. I don't think i'll be able to finish by september like i wanted to, but i'm sure I can finish by the end of the year. :)  
> Hang in there with me!

Lord Stilinski waits in his offices, staring out the window where just a few moments ago his guard followed the man on the horse, the shattered glass still on the floor. For the first time in months, his instinct does not feel as though it is aimed in the wrong direction. He knows this time, this search, Mieczysław will turn up. The boy had done a remarkably good job hiding, Johnathan can give him credit for that, now though it is time for the boy to return home and obey the law of his father.

A timid knock comes from the door, Johnathan turns his head a quarter turn to see it open slightly and Scott’s head poke in. Gone is the shag of brown curls that once topped his head, now his hair is clipped short. His clothes reflect the change in his status as well. His old patchwork trousers and overlarge shirts gone in the presence of collared shirts, a waistcoat, and shoes with a shine, something more worthy of an alpha heir. 

“Son,” Johnathan says, turning his body fully to face Scott. 

“Lord Stilinski,” Scott returns, bowing his head as habit begs of him. 

“Call me ‘Father’ Scott,” Johnathan motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk, offering Scott a place to sit. 

Scott does not answer, instead he sits down on the chair and looks to him as though there is trouble to be reprimanded for. Johnathan moves to his own chair on his side of the desk. The only reason he is so clear headed today, not fogged by the intoxication of alcohol, is the wedding set to begin in a matter of hours. Solemnly, he thinks this may be the first time since Mieczysław left that his head has been this clear.  _ Stupid omega, _ Johnathan thinks, before focusing once more on Scott, his alpha son. 

“On the matter of the estate,” Johnathan begins, immediately any formality Scott was holding in his body vanishes, he slouches in the chair and crosses his arms, an eyebrow cocked up as though he disbelieves everything Johnathan is about to say. “I have had my lawyers rewrite my will to include you as the sole heir to my estate-”

“What about Stiles?” Scott interrupts.

“Mieczysław is an omega, essentially property that I own. I have sent out another search for him,” Johnathan looks in a drawer on his side, half to distract himself from the slight ache in his chest but also to get the paperwork. “You need to sign these accepting the responsibility of being the Stilinski Heir.” 

Johnathan slides the stack of papers to Scott on the other side of the desk, a pen poised on top.

“I do not know where he is,” Scott says without being asked, not moving to pick up the pen in front of him. 

“For the first time,” Johnathan can feel his eyebrows raise, “I believe you. Though someone has to know where the damn omega went,” Johnathan sits back in his chair, taking on a more relaxed version of the posture Scott is wearing. A look of terror flashes on Scott’s face, in his eyes. Johnathan knows he has struck something, he hopes it is gold. “Sign the papers Scott.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Why would you? Can you honestly say that growing up in this estate with Mieczysław, you were never the slightest jealous of the life he lived? Pampered, spoiled, with notions of love floating in his head while you worked hard. That false life you lived would never have allowed you to care for your mother properly.

“Now, however, you have an entire estate to ease her, and myself if you will allow, into our elderly years. Not to mention, very soon you will have a wife of your own, and not too long after that, a family will trail along. You do not want them living off the salary of a housestaff and an apothecary. What kind of life would that be in comparison to the one you could have?”

Johnathan looks at Scott, and can see the look of interest growing in his face. Money is the motivating factor in all business, and this is business.

“My question remains: what about Stiles?” Scott asks from where he sits, arms still crossed over his body. 

Johnathan stands, sending his chair back a few inches with the force, “What of Stiles? What of Stiles!?” Anger surges through Johnathan, this time it is not dulled by alcohol, he feels it full force. “Why ask questions about that stupid fucking omega that does not care enough about you to leave without telling you so much as to where he is going? Why care for a stupid little asshole who kept you from what you truly wanted? Why bother worrying about him when he does not have the slightest care for what you think or want for him?!” 

Johnathan can feel tears in his eyes for some reason. Scott sits stock still in his seat, his breathing even shallow so as to show no movement. Johnathan takes a moment to collect himself, straightening up where he had bent over the desk, fixing a small picture frame on his desk that fell over. It is an old photograph of Mieczysław from when he was a child. He is mostly a blurry mess, not being able to sit still for very long, but Johnathan liked it enough. One more heavy breath in, and Johnathan has the courage to look at Scott again. “Mieczysław will be brought back to the estate. Somehow, someway, he will be served punishment for his actions.”

“Lord Stilinski, I-”

“I will never let that boy take advantage of me again,” it grows quiet between the two alphas. Lord Stilinski looks down to the desk, and takes a moment to force the tears in his eyes to stop. Scott sits in the chair, no moving, barely breathing. Johnathan can sense the fear in him, it was a sense that lingered on him since they first discussed where Stiles had gone. The tension never quite left his shoulders. Mieczysław was never afraid of him, not like this at least. The first time Lord Stilinski ever sensed fear in him was the night he disappeared, when he forced that drink on him. 

“Stiles has more of a claim to this estate than me. Why do you jump to give it to me, your bastard, than your legitimate son?” Scott finally asks, it is small and cautious. 

“You are an alpha, Mieczysław is not. Legitimate or not, alphas take estates.”

“So you’d prefer to marry Stiles off than even try to keep him home? You asked me if I was jealous growing up with Stiles. I can honestly say no, I was never, not even for a moment, jealous of him. He never left the grounds, always stuck in his rooms. At the time I thought my father had abandoned me while Stiles’ father sits in his office all day pretending he was not disappointed in his son.

“Sir, to be jealous of Stiles would suggest Stiles had something I wanted, which was not the case. Stiles has always treated me like a brother, even before the truth came out. Everything he had, I had too. The only difference between him and I was where we slept, and while I got to tuck into bed with my mom in the room, Stiles was cast to the third floor, alone.” Scott finishes, and stares at Lord Stilinski. Johnathan feels his face has grown tight, angry even. 

“Enough of that wretched omega. Back to the business at hand,” Johnathan straightens his waistcoat and sits back in his chair. “Sign it for your future family,” Johnathan says. 

It grows quiet in his office, both men stare at each other. Scott looks a lot more relaxed than Johnathan feels. Now that he looks at Scott, Johnathan can see small similarities between him and Mieczysław. Their soft brown eyes are the most strikingly familiar. Though considering Johnathan has green eyes, it is hard to believe the boys got that trait from him. The moles on Mieczysław’s face far outnumber those on Scott, but Johnathan knows if he shaved, the same moles would appear on his face. 

Other than that, they are hardly similar. Scott’s complection reflects a golden tan with black hair and a crooked jaw. Stiles is pale with brown hair to match his mother. A twist of something strikes his stomach, but he does not flinch away from where Scott sits in his office. 

Scott leans forward, grabbing the pen, and stroking as neatly as he can on the line at the bottom of the page. 

Stiles struggles to sit up in his bed, yet again. The child stirring in his belly knocks his bladder, immediately urging Stiles to make it to the chamberpot he had to bring into the house after not making it to the outhouse a couple of times. He is not ashamed to repeatedly admit that he misses the indoor plumbing of his father’s estate, especially as he has been living in the tiny outhouse since his belly grew so big. 

Now that he is up, he takes a seat on a chair in the kitchen, where a book lays open on the table and a set of knitting needles with a tangle of wool lumped on top. Greenberg had brought him the supplies after Stiles had complained about being bored and cooped up in the house until Derek or the baby came. Nevermind that Stiles does not know how to knit, Greenberg brought him a book from the library in town with step by step instructions that were fruitless. 

The last time Stiles attempted to follow the instructions, he had cursed so loudly Greenberg came rushing in from the field asking if the baby was coming. Stiles had thrown the mess down on the table and moved to find a book to read. One that did not taunt him with his inability to understand how to knit. 

The idea of creating little booties for his child thrilled him more than he can say, but the  _ act _ of creating little booties was worse than anything Stiles had endured. 

Now he idly grabs the needles and props the book up against a heavy candlestick. He lifts his own feet onto an opposing chair, to hopefully alleviate some swelling from his ankles. The book’s pictures are just visible now over his bump. Stiles sighs as a persistent twinge in his back reminds him he cannot even enjoy sitting at this stage of pregnancy.

He begins attempting to straighten out the mass of wool yarn, though he feels as though the task is fruitless, it gives him something to do. 

“Good morning,” Greenberg’s voice comes from the door. Stiles turns his head to look at his friend, grateful to see a basket of goods tucked in his arm. 

“Greenie! Ugh I missed you!” Stiles thinks for a moment about standing, but it took him so long to get comfortable in the chair he decides will stay where he is. “Please tell me there is bread in there.”

“Good morning Stiles,” he laughs and reaches into the basket, “I come bearing bread.” He removes a small roll of bread from the basket, and hands it to Stiles, who immediately takes a bite. 

“Greenberg, if things do not work out with Derek, I will marry you in a heartbeat,” Stiles says around a mouthful of bread. 

He lets out a soft laugh, “I doubt Derek will let me anywhere close to you. How are you feeling today?”

“Ugh, the same as I have for the past week,” Stiles answers annoyed. “I feel like a cow ready for the slaughterhouse. This child is getting so big, it hardly makes sense.” Stiles strokes a hand around his belly, “not to mention I am eager for Derek to return. The longer he is away the more anxious I grow he will not return. It is irrational, there is nothing dangerous about the trip, he is not even going to the-” Stiles catches himself, “the- to see my family. There really is no worry but I cannot help the sinking feeling in my stomach.”

“Derek will return soon. It has been about 10 days, therefore only 5 days to do,” Greenberg turns and goes to clean up the small mess in the kitchen that resulted from Stiles making himself dinner the night before. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Stiles looks back to the mess of yarn, and at the book with the instructions. He picks up the needles and begins again attempting to create something for his baby. Greenberg announces he is going to start the daily chores, Stiles makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to struggle to make even a stitch on the wooden needles. 

Scott’s wedding is beautiful. The day is bright and beautiful, perfect for a wedding. Scott does as his mother tells him, wears the stuffy tuxedo Johnathan had made for the occasion, and does not let his disgust for the man outshine his love for Kira. Kira, of course, looks beautiful in a white dress, a trend started by Queen Elizabeth in Europe. Scott’s heart beats fast, making his hands sweat. He never expected this wedding, this lifestyle, and yet, he now seeing Kira dressed royally he cannot imagine the day going any other way. 

In the pews of the church, Johnathan sits next to his mother, their arms linked. His mom blots at tears in her eyes. Johnathan sits very still, a small smirk on his face that makes Scott think he may not be paying as much attention to the festivities as he should considering the importance to his estate and family. 

Day by day, Scott has been coming to terms with what he said to Derek, and what that means for him. Stiles cannot come back, potentially not ever. Johnathan will give Scott the estate, leaving Stiles with nothing, plus the rumors of his pregnancy, false as they were, ruined Stiles' reputation with the town. He doubts they will accept him back so easily as Derek hoped. 

The melancholy cloud over his head is forced to dissipate as he and Kira exchange vows. 

Their union is sealed with a kiss, the town cheers as they are all packed in and around the church. Still, the moment is bittersweet, twisting in Scott’s stomach churning remembering Stiles, his best friend and brother, was not here today. 

Johnathan does not clap, nor smile at the announcement of husband and wife. Scott can only see the seriousness set in his brown, and the hint of  _ something _ playing in his eyes. 

It reminds him of the conversation they had in his office shortly after Derek left. There had been a look of knowing in his eye. Scott could not help but feel as though Lord Stilinski knew of Derek’s presence and his connection to Stiles. 

During their childhood, Scott hardly remembers Derek around when Lord Stilinski was nearby. Mostly due to the fact that Derek was the son of the stableman and thus not allowed to be near the house, much less playing with Stiles and Scott, though he was occasionally let in by Lady Stilinski. 

The celebration of the wedding continues with a townwide feast and a festival set up in the town square. The whole evening, Scott was looking out for Derek, hoping to get another chance to talk to him, yet also hoping Derek had heeded his advice and left as soon as their discussion was finished. 

Scott did not know the town would accept him as the son of Lord Stilinski so easily. He also never expected himself to give into the Lord’s command to be his heir so easily. Scott will live this life he never wanted, never even knew was a possibility to allow Stiles and Derek to live the life Stiles had plotted out since he was a child. 

Derek rode Camaro as hard as he could. He takes a slightly different path than the one he took on the way to Lord Stilinski’s land. There is a tingle in the back of his neck, like he is being followed, but when he looks behind him, and in the trees around him, he cannot see anyone. Perhaps Scott’s warning is causing some paranoia, but the last thing Derek would want is this adventure with Stiles to be over because they had to satisfy an itch of curiosity. 

He stops in town as often as he can, in hopes that the mass of people can help him relax and perhaps, ease his mind of the anxiety of potentially being followed. However, as soon as he returns to the trails, the paranoia sneaks back up his neck. 

His home is finally in sight, over the last hill that leads down into the small town. Just a few more miles outside of town, he can see a scatter of houses far apart from one another. His home was there, just at the base of the hill to the east of town. 

The excitement of seeing his husband, of seeing his child grow to great. He had planned to stay in town one night, to see if his paranoia proved to be correct, yet being so close to home was too close not to be home. He bucks Camaro into a run, instead of the lazy trot he had been at, and steers him in the direction of his house. 

Greenberg is in the farms, working with Roscoe to water the vegetables. 

“Hello Derek,” he says, slightly confused. “Aren’t you a day early?”

“Hi Greenberg, I am. I missed Stiles,” Derek dismounts and looks behind him to see there is no one following him. “Is he inside?”

Greenberg nods, “Yeah, he’s been missing you something fierce too.” Greenberg comes in closer and offers Derek a handshake, to which Derek accepts. 

“I will be out in just a minute,” Derek says, still gripping Greenberg’s hand. 

“No, don’t worry about me. You stay with Stiles. I don’t think he’s going to let you go anytime soon,” Greenberg jokes but it feels genuine at the same time. 

The front door to the house swings open rapidly. In the frame stands a very pregnant Stiles, hand tucked in the small of his back for support. “I thought I heard a familiar voice. Derek get your ass over here please and rub my feet.” 

A ridiculous smile breaks onto Derek’s face, his stomach relieving the paranoia that had built up there since he talked to Scott. See Stiles makes him feel infinitely better. Derek looks back to Greenberg, who motions with his head towards the house, granting permission for Derek to go tend to Stiles instead of needing to help on the farm. Greenberg takes Camaro’s reins and Derek runs to the house. 

He takes Stiles into his arms, leaning as best he can over the extended belly on Stiles front. Stiles brings him into a kiss and strokes his hand over Derek’s beard, which had grown significantly in the past two weeks he had been traveling. Derek himself cannot stop the temptation to run his own hands in the hair that has grown out on Stiles head. It has only been two weeks, but Derek feels as though it has been a lifetime.

Stiles directs them tothe bed. Derek’s knees buck into the edge of the mattress causing him to sit on the bed and come face to face with Stiles’ belly. 

“Wow,” he says, placing a hand on the taut skin. He tests the weight of it by gently lifting it from the bottom, the slight relief of weight causes Stiles to lose balance for a short moment, “you’re big.”

“Big is an understatement,” Stiles jokes rubbing his own hand over the apex of his belly. Derek kisses the spot where Stiles' hand passes over. “I am thrilled you are home, but a day early? What happened?”

Derek takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh, bringing his hand to rub at his hair. “Sit down Stiles, I believe you asked me to rub your feet.”

“Uh oh, this feels daunting,” Stiles says taking a seat on the bed near where the bed meets the wall and swinging his legs up before placing them in Derek’s lap. He has not bothered with shoes in some time, so he just has on some socks, which Greenberg helped him with. 

Slowly, Derek starts working at Stiles’ feet, causing the omega to moan and groan. They  _ had _ become quite swollen, Derek notices. Derek chooses to focus on the task at hand, working over Stiles’ feet and ankles while Stiles has his eyes closed and enjoying the relief. 

“Hmm,” Stiles says picking his head up like he had nearly dozed off. “Stop or I will fall asleep before you tell me why you are home early.”

“Is it possible to say it is because I missed you?” Derek says, still working tiny circles into the pads of Stiles’ foot. 

“It is quite possible, I am a delight, but we both know you wanted to spend some time with your family, and no matter who you slice it, you were there, and came straight home.”

“That is not true, I stopped at the farm. Cora is pregnant, married to a boy named Isaac. She seemed to have been close to 5 months,” Derek looks to Stiles, still rubbing his feet. 

“Derek, what did you find out? About my father’s-” Stiles cuts himself off, not able to finish the sentence without tears forming in his eyes. “Damn hormones,” he mutters, bringing up his shirt to wipe away the tears. 

“Cora told me Scott was announced to be Lord Stilinski’s alpha heir and son. He is marrying a girl in town, for love,” Derek admits, his thumbs stop their gentle rotation as he looks to his husband. “He will inherit the estate.”

Stiles’ breathing becomes labored, more tears flow down his face and his cheeks become flushed. “Scott? Scott McCall is my father’s heir?”

“He goes by Scott Stilinski now. It would explain why his alpha status never triggered a heat in you. You are brother, biologically.”

“Half brothers you mean,” Stiles snips out. 

“Sti, breath,” Derek tries to reach up to Stiles' face, but it is pushed away as Stiles’ breath becomes labored and heavy. Stiles looks around the room like he is looking for something to hold on to. Derek can tell that he is thinking, that there is a thought process going on behind his eyes, he really just wishes he could hear it. 

After a moment, Stiles’ breathing evens out, not having gotten worse to lead to an anxiety attack like when they were children after Lady Stilinski’s death. 

“I do not understand, but-” Stiles sniffles and wipes a tear from his eye, “that is not my life anymore. I doubt it ever really was,” he reaches out and takes Derek’s hand, the one just a moment ago he pushed away. “I told you that I do not need nor want my father’s estate, and I will not make a liar out of myself by going back on that promise now.

“This is my life. This house, this town,” his hand roams over his belly, which looks truly oversized at the angle he’s resting, “this baby. You.” His hand roams off the apex of his belly and reaches out for Derek. To which, Derek moves from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed to the empty space next to Stiles. “It, however, doesn’t mean I can’t hold contempt for Scott’s actions.” He pulls Stiles into an awkward hug, causing Stiles’ belly to press against Derek’s stomach. He does not mind though, enjoying the weight of Stiles and their child on him, anchoring him to their new life. 

They sit there for a long time, Derek stroking Stiles’ hair grabbing at the length and twisting it in his fingers. He had been gone two weeks and it felt like so long, silently he makes a vow to never leave again. He feels Stiles’ breath grow steady, signalling he fell asleep. 

“I love you,” Derek says, breaking the silence between them. Stiles does not respond. Derek just smiles and continues grooming Stiles, ready to continue living this life with Stiles and never having to worry about his father again. 

Jordan Parrish had been following the beta Lord Stilinski set him after for nearly a week before he stopped in a small down. Parrish had abandoned his estate uniform, because he could tell the beta was suspicious. The beta made his way to a small far, and even from his hidden spot near the tree line, Parrish could see Lord Stilinski’s omega son, bid and round with child greeting the beta. 

He considers turning around and going back to the estate to tell the Lord where Mieczysław is, however, he is tired from his journey. Parrish decides to stay, for a little while, a week at most. 

From the treeline, he dismounts his horse and makes sure all signs of his origin from the Stilinski Estate are removed. He, personally, has never been in the presence of Mieczysław besides a few passing moments on the grounds, so he doubts the omega will recognize him. Once he is sure he can’t be traced to his home he walks his horse the short distance to the front of the small house. 

“Hello,” the man outside says in greeting. 

“Good evening,” Parrish replies. 

“Are you lost friend?” he looks young, Parrish observes. He stops the works he’s doing and rests his hands on the top of the tool. 

“I am new to town, when I asked for work in town, they sent me this way,” Parrish lies.

“Oh, well I’m sure Stiles and Derek would love an extra hand with the baby coming and all,” the man sticks out his hand, “I’m Greenberg, I love right over there with my father,” he points to another farm a bit down the road. 

“I’m Jordan,” he reaches out and takes Greenberg’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did please consider leaving a comment! They make me so happy and really motivate me to work on this. 
> 
> New Character: Jordan Parrish
> 
> Find me on tumblr under the same user name :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'm on tumblr under the same username if you want to hang out. :) Please drop a kudos and a comment!


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